The Unseen Fate
by Napket
Summary: Laryll Tabris and Zevran were raised together in a brothel in Antiva, until the girl got adopted and the boy was sold to the Crows. The fate begins to change constantly when Laryll gets involved with two Wardens, who are trying to stop the Blight. F!Tabris/Zevran, Cousland/Alistair. Altered events, violence, some eroticism.
1. Chapter 1

**I have this huge story developing in my head, and I have to write it down. My other project (from Dungeons & Dragons) had to be satisfied to it's second place, because my fingers were dying to start this. This is my second fanfic based on a video game. Again, English is not my native tongue, but I'll try my best not to make too many grammar mistakes. The first chapter is extra-long, I don't know how long will the others be from now on.**

**All comments are welcome, even the grammar police have a green light. Enjoy.**

_The sky was filled with stars. It was late evening, and the merchants of Antiva City were closing their shops. Stray dogs and cats roamed through the streets, looking for scraps of food thrown away from taverns and bars. Lights were turned off, doors were shut and people headed to their homes. Or to whorehouses, whatever they preferred after a hot, long day._

_ A small breeze tussled Laryll's long, red hair and she made no attempt to swipe the strands from her face. She sat on the roof of a brothel the Dusk's Embrace, or simply the Dusk, as the people called it. It was quite large building with many rooms and 'entertainers'. The Dusk was one of the most successful brothels, as it was located near the barracks and the market. Antivan soldiers were regular customers and there were a lot of them, and the rich merchants and traders had the coin to spend. The red lanterns of the Dusk guided the passing folk, and on the terrace some of the prostitutes had a special duty of tempting more customers to come in and take a closer look at what the Dusk had to offer._

_ Laryll squeezed her arms harder which were wrapped around her legs. She tried not to sniffle, because she didn't like the stench of Antivan leather that was floating in the air. She rubbed her eyes, ordering herself to stop crying and lowered her head._

_ "Finally, found you", a soft voice sighed from relief behind Laryll._

_ Pricking up her pointy ears, Laryll remained still, not wanting to see Zevran's face. "It's nice and quiet here", she murmured. She was sure her friend could hear the trembling in her voice._

_ Zevran climbed the rest of his way to the roof and stared at Laryll. "Quiet, yes. But you can't claim you're comfortable in that night shirt of yours."_

_ Laryll flinched, only then noticing she wasn't wearing anything but her pink long shirt, which had some tiny white ribbons on its hem. She flushed and fixed the hem so that her panties wouldn't show._

_ "You are silly, I've seen you naked more times than anyone else, no?" Zevran laughed and sat beside Laryll. "Plus we are just children, so what does it matter?"_

_ "You have spent too many hours with the prostitutes, Zev. You're beginning to sound like them", Laryll snorted and kept hugging her legs. She was only five and her friend two years older than her, true, but still Laryll felt her cheeks warming up, especially when Zevran protested he liked her and the girls' company with a laugh._

_ "So, going to reveal what's in that mind of yours?" teased Zevran and blinked his eyes at the other elf._

_ Laryll swallowed, having difficulty to find the right words. "You were there. You heard what that man said."_

_ "You mean Cyrion Tabris?" A nod was the only answer he got from her. He thought back what he had heard. This Fereldan elf from Denerim, Cyrion, had travelled to Antiva due to his business and was looking for a present for his wife. He had been amazed by the amount of orphans in Antiva, and came up with an idea of adopting one. They hadn't had any luck with his wife of getting their own children. The moment Cyrion had laid his eyes on Laryll nursing a wounded stray dog during the day, he knew she would be the one. The elf had asked for the permission to adopt Laryll and take her to Denerim from the owner of Dusk, and to Laryll's shock, the owner had agreed. Without reluctant, as a matter of fact._

_ Zevran glanced at Laryll, whose eyes swam in tears. "C'mon, it's not going to be that bad", he reassured Laryll, his hand on her shoulder. "This is your chance of getting out of here, is it not? Haven't you always gone on about how much you hate the stink?"_

_ The boy's joke was not helping at all. Laryll burst into a loud cry and threw herself on Zevran's lap, gripping his beige tunic and sobbing. She tried to mumble something, but her words didn't make any sense. Zevran sighed and pet Laryll's bright red hair. He wondered where the usually strong and unflinching Laryll had gone and who was this pathetic creature clinging on him. His heart felt like stone, but he couldn't break in front of her, not when she needed him the most._

_ Instead, Zevran made every effort to ease Laryll's pain. "This won't tear us apart, I swear to you", he whispered softly. "We will meet each other again, and when we do, you are going to find yourself in the biggest embrace you've ever seen."_

_ "I don't want to go alone", Laryll's shivery voice sniffled. "You are my best friend. My only friend. How will I manage without you?"_

_ "The other kids are going to be so disappointed and jealous when I'll tell them that. And did you not listen to me?" Zevran lifted Laryll's face with the tip of his finger. "This _willnot _separate us. For a moment, sure, but that is going to be an extra-short moment if I'll have anything to do with it."_

_ Laryll's lower lip trembled and she pressed her lips tightly together. Then, staring directly at Zevran with her purple eyes, she asked: "Would you... would you mind if I slept with you tonight?"_

_ Staggered, Zevran's eyes widened and he smirked. "My dear Laryll, now who's the one with a mind like prostitute's?"_

_ Laryll couldn't stop the red colour conquering her face. "You-! You and your dirty mind! Are you really seven years old?!" she faltered with her words and hoisted herself from the elf's lap, nervously grinding her teeth. "Cyrion wants us to leave tomorrow, as early as p-possible. I-I might not be able to sleep and...and in case we wouldn't have time t-to say goodbyes...gosh I sound so stupid-"_

_ "I wouldn't mind", said Zevran._

_ "Pardon?"_

_ "I said I wouldn't mind you sleeping with me. Why should this time be any different that all the other times? In case you haven't noticed, you seem to fancy my blanket over yours. I don't know if it's the colour or the smell or-"_

_ "Zev, please shut up", Laryll muttered, holding her hot cheeks._

_ "Of course, my favourite elf. Now, shall we go before one of us catches a nasty flu?" Zevran rose up and stretched his hand for Laryll, who accepted the offer._

_ "Besides, I would rather be strangled with a belt made from Antivan leather than miss your departure", Zevran grinned and tucked some of Laryll's hair behind her ear. "Someone has to brush all that red of yours, to make sure you will be pretty enough to leave Antiva behind."_

_ "Could we just go, before you pour everything you've learned from the ladies on me and I die from too much blushing?" awkward Laryll begged._

_ "As you wish, Laryll."_

__0-0-0-0-0

Laryll's eyes flew open, a fresh tear rolling across her face and staining the pillow. She yanked herself up, still a bit stunned of her dream. With unsteady hands she fluffed her long, red hair, feeling a lump in her throat when remembering the time she had dreamt of. It had been thirteen years since she had last seen her friend Zevran. It hurt to think what he had been doing during all those years, because his letters stopped coming only a few weeks after Laryll had left Antiva. She bit her lip and tired to shook all the grim thoughts from her head.

There was a sound of heels clacking, and a red-headed woman entered Laryll's room. "Get up cousin, it's...oh, you're already awake?" the woman stared.

"I couldn't sleep much, Shianni", Laryll greeted the elf.

"Well no wonder!" Shianni crossed her arms. "Getting married and all, who could sleep well when preparing for something like that?"

"I haven't been preparing, because I still don't want to do this", Laryll said in a low voice. Her father Cyrion was definitely in the next room and she didn't want him to hear her words. After all, a marriage was an important step of becoming a full adult, and her father had been busy taking care of arrangements, only for her and her day to be perfect.

Even when Zevran wasn't here, Cyrion had done his best for Laryll. After his wife, Laryll's adoptive mother, had died, Cyrion didn't want to bother his daughter with his grief, which made Laryll a kind of sad. She felt like every man she had known had always commanded themselves not to break in front of her. _I can look after myself just fine_, thought Laryll. She had learned the basics of fighting with daggers from Zevran, and surprisingly her mother had honed the skills to be near perfection. The training was one of the things Laryll most missed doing with her mother. She took a glimpse at the daggers leaning against her bed, ignoring the other red haired elf in her room.

Shianni snorted. "Not this again. Why wouldn't you want to marry? You know, I saw your betrothed. He was quite handsome. Nelaros I think his name was."

Keeping her head lowered, Laryll sighed, not answering.

"He has blond hair like that friend of yours from Antiva you've told me about", Shianni tried.

That made Laryll shiver. She glared at Shianni, her lips pressed in a thin line. Her cousin understood the warning and made a gesture of zipping her mouth closed.

"Cyrion is waiting for you", Shianni said in a more serious voice. "Nelaros has arrived early, so you should get yourself cleaned and ready. I'll be outside." She turned around and exited the house.

Laryll threw her blanket away and rose to her feet. _In case you haven't noticed you seem to fancy my blanket over yours_, an Antivan voice whispered in her mind. She slapped her cheeks with both of her hands and got dressed in her common clothes.

Cyrion was poking wood logs in the fireplace, until he noticed Laryll. "Ah, my lovely daughter, you're up", he smiled and hugged the girl.

"Yes, father, though I can't say I had a good night's sleep", said Laryll and released herself from the embrace. "Shianni told me my...betrothed was already here."

"Straight to the point as always", Cyrion laughed. "Yes, Nelaros was kind to arrive so early. His family has already been paid the dowry. I can't think a better candidate to be your husband than Nelaros. He's such a gentleman and-"

"Please father", Laryll interrupted Cyrion, "don't I get to find out anything about Nelaros on my own?"

"I'm sorry, dear. It's just...", Cyrion hesitated with his words. "I know you think you aren't ready to marry, even though you are eighteen now. But I'm sure you'll do fine. I would never force you to do anything that would make you unhappy."

"I apologise, I never intended to worry you, father. I know you always do what's best for me, and I'm not going to disappoint you, I swear."

"Now look at us, my daughter, getting all gloomy and tearful when there's a wedding to be had. Two, in fact! You should fetch your cousin Soris before he runs away." Cyrion patted Laryll on her shoulder. He watched as his only daughter steadily left home, and wished the gods would bless her on this day.

The alienage of Denerim was as filthy and barren as it had always been. Laryll saw the elves in their usual common clothing, working hard at their usual spots and greeting her friendly as she strolled around. She passed the vhenadahl, the Tree of the People, which gallantly stood in the middle of the district. Then she discovered her other cousin Soris leaning against a pillar away from the plaza. She walked towards him, and it seemed like Soris was not aware of her presence.

"May I join you, my broody cousin?" Laryll teased, and smirked at Soris' jump.

"Laryll? Maker, do not scare me like that!" Soris gnarled, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Who did you think I was? A dragon?"

"My betrothed, that's who."

Laryll snorted and sat on a bench beside her elf cousin. "Glad I'm not the only one who's not so excited about this."

"You shouldn't be afraid", Soris sighed. "You are so lucky to get married to Nelaros. Have you not seen my wife?"

"Keep that up and your wedding is going to end up in tragedy", Laryll chuckled. "And I'm not lucky at all. I don't want to marry yet, no matter who's the one taking my hand."

"Not even that exotic childhood friend of yours?"

Laryll flushed. "What are you...Shianni! She told you, didn't she!? Ugh I so should punch her in face right now!"

Soris watched curiously Laryll's raging. She had bounced up and was pacing and scratching her hair, messing it. Not that she had brushed it from the begin with.

When Laryll detected she was stared at, she slumped back on the bench. "He was...is a very good friend, nothing more. He looked after me and had the words to comfort me. He promised all kinds of things to me, one of them being that nothing would separate us, not even my adoption." She paused, her breathing tensed. "I don't know what happened to him. We wrote letters for weeks after I had left Antiva and then suddenly he didn't write me again. Maybe he was forbidden to do so, I don't know."

Soris placed his hand on Laryll's shoulder. "Sorry, I didn't mean to distress you. I'm sure he's fine, whatever he's doing. And I'm sure you will meet again."

Laryll nodded and got up. "Shall we go meet our fates?" she joked and gestured at the square where Shianni and the others were waiting.

"Urgh, looks like we don't have a choice. Lead the way, cousin", Soris whined and followed the red head. He saw Nelaros and his future wife, Valora, in the distance, near the huge tree.

0-0-0-0-0

Just when Laryll and the brown-haired Soris were coming closer to the vhenadahl, they saw Shianni waving at them. Laryll lifted her hand to wave back, but she stopped once noting a group of humans behind Shianni and some other elves with her.

"Well well, what have we here?" one of the humans who was dressed in an expensive looking outfit rubbed his beard. "So many of you knife-ears gathered like this, is it someone's birthday? What a shame I haven't been invited, I do so like parties."

Shianni gasped and turned around, meeting the man's gaze. "Especially the parties with a lot of pretty ladies to entertain me", the human added with an evil grin.

Laryll grind her teeth. These filthy humans, first they forced the elves to live in this pile of garbage, and now they dared to come here to mock us? She cursed that she didn't have her daggers with her. Be it a happy day or not, she would not tolerate these _shems_ intruding her home. Not when it had been humans who had killed her adoptive mother.

Quickly Soris grabbed Laryll's arm, when she was about to take a step ahead. "I know you loathe _shems_, but I don't think we should get involved", he tried to convince his cousin, but his words were not heard.

The bearded man was closing in Shianni, who desperately tried to retreat. Then she tripped and fell on the ground, and she left out a low scream, grabbing her hand which got injured.

"Aw, you poor thing. If I help you up, how would you reward me? I can do the thinking for you, for I certainly have plenty of ideas-"

The man couldn't finish his sentence because Laryll had snatched a glass bottle from a bench nearby and hit him on the head with all her might. The bottle shattered and blood was dripping from his hair when he collapsed. One of the other humans hastily knelt next to him and angrily leered at Laryll.

"What have you done, you knife-ear bitch!" the man shouted. "This is Bann Vaughan, the son of the Arl of Denerim!"

"Oh no...", Shianni shivered and gave a worried look at Laryll ,who didn't look sorry at all.

The humans lifted Vaughan and started carrying him. "You will not get away with this, I promise", one of them snarled.

"Go to hell, _shem_", Laryll growled back. "You had no right to interfere our wedding from the begin with. You can take that piece of shit and dump him in a well for all I care. Now get out."

The intruders spat offending words against Laryll's face and walked away. Shianni was dumbfounded, as well as was Soris, but their silence was broken by a high-pitched voice near them.

"What was that all about?" the shrill voice asked.

"Ah, nothing to worry about, Valora", Soris calmed the elf woman.

"Sure didn't look like that", a blond elf next to Valora smiled. "It seems I have to take some precautions with bottles once living with you." He winked at Laryll.

Laryll dropped the remains of the bottle from her grasp. "Trust me, the bottles would be the least of your concern. I assume you are Nelaros?"

"That's me, my lady. Forgive me for saying, but you aren't exactly what I expected."

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not!" Nelaros shook his head. "Quite the contrary, in fact. I like women with spirit. Must be because I'm a smith, huh."

"Well you sure like to say what's on your mind, I give you that", Laryll snorted, a hint of blush climbing her cheeks. Shianni had been right of Nelaros being handsome, but still Laryll couldn't find a cure for her uneasiness.

"Nervous?" asked Nelaros, his eyes gently looking at Laryll's purple ones.

"Not really no", she lied. "The sooner this is over the better. I really need a drink after this. Or two."

"Oh, wonderful. You have solved my problem then."

"Huh?"

"My first present for you as your husband. A bottle of the most tasty liquid I can afford to buy", Nelaros smirked.

0-0-0-0-0

After having tided themselves up and changed into proper clothes, Soris, Valora and Nelaros headed to the platform where the ceremony was to be held. Laryll joined them later in her white, long-sleeved dress. Soris teased if she had run away. Laryll just scoffed and acted looking hurt.

The keeper of the elves, Valendrian, began his speech. He praised how important it was for their kin to be bonded now that the elves had been released from slavery. The majority of the words, however, didn't reach Laryll. Her nose itched and her finger was twitching, which were things that happened when she was nervous. She couldn't help thinking of Zevran. How would he look like today? Was he still in Antiva? How many girlfriends he had already charmed? She chewed on her lower lip and closed her eyes.

Just when the priestess was about to begin her part, everyone gasped. Laryll winched and looked what had caused the commotion. Her eyes widened when she saw Bann Vaughan marching at them with his armoured friends. She trembled, aware of the fact she couldn't fight all of them. Not without her weapons and armour.

"My lord", the priestess said with a surprise in her voice, "we didn't expect you to come back so soon."

"Yes, well I just couldn't let you enjoy yourselves without me, now could I?" Vaughan laughed. He was clearly drunk. "I thought I too should celebrate such a lovely event, but alas, we lacked the prettier side of the crowd."

As the guards were coming closer, Nelaros shifted his arm in front of Laryll. "I won't let them hurt you, I promise."

Again, a promise. Zevran had promised so many things and had always kept them. _Why am I doing this to myself, he's not here_, Laryll reproached herself. She felt fear. She knew she shouldn't have remembered her childhood friend in a situation like this, because now she was afraid. She was the cause for this trouble, she should go with Vaughan and his men. But again she was promised. Laryll blinked her eyes so that the tears wouldn't show.

One of the humans stood in front of Shianni and grabbed her chin. "This one's quite a beauty, but I'm sure there was another elf with bright red hair like hers."

"Ah yes", Vaughan sneered. "Where is that knife-ear whore who attacked me?" He looked around and detected Laryll behind Nelaros. With a grin he took a few steps towards them.

"Touch her and I'll kill you", Nelaros threatened the Bann.

Vaughan swung his arms. "Oh-ho, we have a brave one here! Unfortunately, I'm only interested in the girls, so could you please move, so that I won't have to harm you?"

Nelaros wasn't shaken. He frowned at Vaughan, his face as stiff as mabari's.

"Pity", Vaughan sighed and kicked Nelaros in his stomach. He had a satisfied look on his face, when the elf fell on the wooden platform.

"Nelaros!" Laryll shrieked, but before she could do anything, Vaughan had his hand in her hair and was pulling her head. She cried from pain, and furiously glared at the human.

"Looks like I found the perfect entertainer. No bottles this time, though", the Bann stated and punched the elf's face.

Laryll fell next to Nelaros, who was unconscious. She heard the _shem_ ordering his companions to take the girls and Soris saying something like 'over my dead body'. Her vision began to blur, and the noise was just noise. She reached to Nelaros with her shaky hand, but the darkness was winning. 'Zev' was the last thing she heard herself saying before everything went black.

* * *

**Yeah I know there are so many stories where the chapter ends in the main character getting knocked out. But because of the length and the next chapter's events I thought it was best to end the first chapter here. Did I use the word 'chapter' enough?**


	2. Chapter 2

**It looks like I had no RL issues going on, so I had time to continue with this. Many thanks for those who have read and a big hug for the first reviewer! Okay, hugs for the readers, too.**

**WARNING: There's an attempt of rape in this chapter. I like grim and dark events in stories, but fear not, the whole story is not going to be so angsty. Only two categories could be picked for the tale, but if more could be chosen, I'd say this is a story with romance/adventure/hurt&comfort/tragedy(a bit).**

_Voices. Someone was calling her. She couldn't figure out who. The pounding in her head was too overwhelming. She was sure her head would explode if she opened her eyes. She could only hope the mellow darkness would engulf her once more. But the voice kept harassing her. She was gently shaken and she felt a brush on her cheek._

_ "Laryll, wake up. Please", the tender voice whispered._

0-0-0-0-0

"Zev?" Laryll carefully responded, her eyes fluttering.

"Nope, sorry", Shianni's face above her cousin grinned. She helped Laryll sit up.

"What...where are we?" Laryll dared to ask. She saw her red-headed cousin, Valora and some other girls. One was hysterically praying and being scolded by the others because of it.

The events came back to Laryll. She had attacked that _shem_, Vaughan, and he had stormed the wedding with his dogs. She remembered Nelaros' arm covering her, promising no harm would come to her before Vaughan had kicked him. She took a quick look at her surroundings, but saw no trace of Nelaros or Soris. _Of course_, she muttered. Those humans were only interested in the girls. Her finger began twitching again, and she had a bad taste in her mouth.

"Shianni, do you know anything about Soris and Nelaros?" Laryll asked after she had stood up, her purple eyes piercing her cousin.

"No", the red-head answered with disappointment. "We all woke up in this room. I assume Vaughan and his men are coming to get us soon." She gulped, not wanting to think about what would be done to her and the rest.

Laryll took Shianni's hands in hers. "No-one's going to get a chance to hurt you. I won't let them. You too", she stared at the elves, "do not panic. We well get out of here."

Just when she had finished her encouraging speech, there was a noise of a key turning in the lock of the wooden door in their room. Valora gasped and backed off, her back touching the stone wall. The praying elf went silent, but she remained in her position, one knee on the floor and her hands crossed. Shianni's fingers curled tighter around Laryll's palms, her heart thumping fast.

Two guards entered the room, contemptuously glaring at the elves. "Hello, ladies", the taller human greeted with a sneer. "Our lord Vaughan has ordered us to bring him some company, and depending on how you behave yourselves, he just might be generous enough to free you after the party."

"Please let us go, I don't want to die!" the elf who had been praying jumped up with a horrified look on her face.

Before Laryll could warn the elf, the guard who had spoken had unsheathed his sword and with a whistle the blade cut the elf's throat and she fell backwards. Shianni screamed and buried her head in her cousin's chest. While the other elves were as shocked and crying as Shianni, Laryll forced herself to remain calm, watching the blood gushing from the dead elf. She stroked Shianni's red tails of hair, mumbling 'it's okay, I'll protect you' in her ear.

"Now, has any other of you whores something to say?" the guard with the sword in his hand snorted. After having a compliant silence as his answer, he nodded the other guard, who walked towards Laryll, but his eyes were fixed on Shianni.

Laryll shivered, not letting go of her cousin. These _shems_ could call her a whore for all she cared, but they would never treat Shianni like one. Laryll had grew up in a whorehouse, and she knew how some of the customers liked it...rough, and judging from earlier, this Vaughan was one of those kind of 'customers'.

"Bann Vaughan has specifically requested your lovely presence", the human who now stood in front of Laryll said and yanked Shianni's sleeve.

Shianni let out a miserable shriek, before Laryll released her from the guard's grip. "It is not her who she wants!" Laryll hissed. "Take me instead."

The guards looked at each other and burst to laugh. "What's this? A volunteer? How nice of you, but it pains me to inform you that's not going to happen. Lord's orders, you know", the human breathed on Laryll's face.

"I attacked him, so I'm sure he wants some payback."

"Oh he'll get to play with you, but with...different instruments", the tall guard with scruffy black beard smirked. "Now come on, we don't have all day." He pulled Shianni from Laryll's arms and shouted the terrified elf to shut up and stop her squirming.

With her quick reflexes, Laryll grabbed the scruffy's wrist. "I'm the only virgin elf in this room", she persuaded. "Surely that would please your lord-"

"Do not touch me, you filthy whore!" the human roared and slapped Laryll so hard she flew on the floor, wiping some crimson colored liquid from the corner of her mouth.

"Wait", the other guard halted his friend from the door. He stomped forward and crouched next to Laryll. He wasn't as heavily armored as his friend, but it didn't hurt any less when he jerked the long red hair. "A virgin, you say?" he stared directly in Laryll's eyes, a curious smile on his face.

"Yes", Laryll stated, trying her best not to show any weakness.

The guard snorted. "Let go of that girl", he commanded his hot-tempered companion, who was holding Shianni. "Vaughan will party with this one." He raised Laryll on her feet and hit her back with the pommel of his sword. "Move."

Shianni was released from the other _shem's_ grip and she slumped on the floor, shaking and sniffling. She hopelessly watched as Laryll exited the room, the other human kicking her to walk faster. She couldn't call her cousin's name because of her sobbing. She just reached out her hand and then the door was closed and locked.

0-0-0-0-0

The corridors seemed to last forever. Red carpet covered most of the floor, and as she walked with the guards, Laryll could get a glimpse on an elven servant, on her knees scrubbing filth. She loathed this Bann, this _shem_. He was evidently a sadist, who enjoyed watching others (particularly elves) to kneel before him. Vaughan abused his status as the Arl of Denerim's son and Laryll knew she, Shianni and the others were definitely not the first elves to have been dragged into his feast.

The guards stopped at a double door and one of them knocked loudly. "My lord, may we enter?" he asked in a high voice, and Vaughan gave his approval from the other side of the door.

Laryll's nose wrinkled. It itched because of her stress and the sight was not pleasant. Vaughan was slurping his red wine, sitting in a large chair with emerald colored padding. He was dressed in pompous clothes, which surely have cost more than an average alienage elf could earn in two years. The table was filled with all sorts of food, and Laryll thought she has never smelled this many different scents in one room, not even in Antiva. She was okay with the simple dishes she had always eaten.

Vaughan lowered the glass from his lips. "What's this? I wanted that other red-head, not this bitch! At least not yet!" he barked.

"Sir", the shorter guard cleared his throat. "I apologize, but I thought it would most please you to know that this elf is a virgin, unlike the others we captured."

A wide grin pulled the corners of the Bann's mouth up. "Well what are you waiting for? Get a move on, and remember to lock the door." He flicked at the guards, who pushed Laryll further into the room and closed the heavy door behind her.

"Relax, my sweet whore, we should be enjoying ourselves, don't you think?" Vaughan said and gestured Laryll to sit down next to him. "Aren't you lucky to not be wearing your filthy common rags when in my company, hmm? Such a beautiful figure..."

The elf swallowed and crossed her hands. She was still wearing the white wedding dress and some jewelry. She had never liked to wear anything so fancy, not even when Zevran had insisted when they were kids. Laryll quickly shook the thoughts from her mind. _Nothing to be afraid of, I can handle this_, she assured herself. She couldn't see anything which could have been used as a weapon. Not that it would have helped. The whole alienage would be destroyed if an elf slew a human. Laryll kept her calm and waited.

Hungry eyes stared at the read-haired elf. "Don't you have the appetite?" Vaughan crooned. "Well in that case, we should do something more fun." He leaned towards the elf, his breath smelling of alcohol. His gaze wandered, like he was checking his prize. His cold fingers touched the prey's face.

Laryll gasped and without thinking she slapped the man's hand away. Vaughan snarled and strongly grabbed Laryll's arm and lifted her from her seat. The bottle of wine on the table fell from the sudden movement, the red insides pouring from it's container and dripping from the stained table cloth.

"You dare, whore?", Vaughan said trough his clenched teeth. "If you like it hard, then we shall do it hard." He took a good grip on Laryll's jaw, holding her mouth close to his. His other hand was still squeezing her arm, the area becoming red from pain.

"Let go of me, you _shem!_" Laryll screamed and tried to struggle, but Vaughan silenced her by claiming her mouth.

Laryll's heart sank. She stiffened and her eyes widened. The pain in her arm disappeared, because she couldn't think of it anymore. This monster in front of her had committed a great crime: he had stolen Laryll's first kiss. It wasn't passionate, warm and loving. It was rough, cold and degrading. It felt like all the tears she had hidden for the past thirteen years came out at the same time, streaming along her pale cheeks. Despite the liquid Vaughan didn't release her. His mouth forced Laryll's lips to dance with him, and the elf was totally helpless. Her tongue was licked by Vaughan's, and the monster let go of Laryll's arm only to grab her breast.

She managed to free her trembling mouth and winced when tasting something bitter. Before she knew what it was, she felt her legs beginning to fail her and became light-headed. "You, what...what did you do to me?"

"Exciting, isn't it?" the Bann said. "You elves are said to have keen senses, but you couldn't notice me slipping that tiny pill in your mouth during our lovely kiss. Such a shame, but I can't have you showing off your fighter skills on our special night together."

"You... No...", Laryll cried, her body becoming weaker. This was absolutely the worst. She would not be able to fight, even if she had found some sort of weapon.

Vaughan only smirked. "Ooh yes. This is starting to become so much more interesting, whore." With a strong wrench he ripped Laryll's dress, revealing her upper body. "You're a bit thin, but guess that virginity of yours will compensate that."

Vaughan took Laryll's wrist and led her to his bed. When she began to resist, he punched her face, not letting go. Laryll spat some blood and still couldn't cease her tears from flowing. She was still shocked of losing her first kiss to this _shem_, and could not stop thinking about Zevran, which only made things worse. She was now terrified, and her strength was drained. It had been an unfamiliar poison which she had swallowed. It had left her powerless, but not paralyzed. A perfect drug for the monster to sexually abuse his victims.

Laryll was pushed on Vaughan's wide bed, the silk sheets getting wrinkled under her. Her red hair spread, her head looking like a sad, white sun with fiery rays shooting out of it. Vaughan didn't admire her body like any normal lovers would have done. As soon as Laryll was on her back the Bann crawled on top of her, pressing his knee between Laryll's legs and took the elf's naked breast into his mouth. He sucked and licked it violently and rolled the other breast's nipple between his fingers. Laryll told him to stop, showing only horror instead of pleasure.

The monster moved to lick Laryll's neck. "As long as you don't enjoy as I do, I'm not letting you go", he gnarled and stroked the woman's stomach and ribs. "Beg me, scream my name, moan. Otherwise I'm going to seriously hurt you, and will not stop until you show me how much you want me." He sucked the neck, leaving painful kissing marks behind and continued with the breasts.

_This is wrong. This is all wrong. It's not supposed to go like this. Not with force. Not acting. Not like the ladies in the Dusk_, Laryll's thoughts roamed in her head. _What is he doing right now? Has the Maker been gentler to him than to me? Is he still taking good care of his hair, now that he can't brush mine anymore? Where are you, Zev? Please save me. Please..._

"Moan, bitch!" a command separated her from the maze of her mind, and Laryll felt a painful punch to her ribs. She didn't have the strength to curl from the pain.

Vaughan took off the rest of the wedding dress, tearing it more and threw the lump of cloth on the floor. He clawed Laryll's bare thighs and put his hand on the most important thing of womanhood. Laryll shivered and shouted 'no' over and over again. The thin cloth covering the area between her legs was the only thing protecting her from a total disgrace. But drugged and beaten, she knew this was a battle she could not win. She had intended to deal with this monster somehow, but the tables had been turned.

"Moan", Vaughan repeated, slowly rubbing Laryll's covered bottom. "You are a whore, so you have to moan. I won't stop until I have a proof you are enjoying this." His hand slid under the small cloth and two of his fingers dug into Laryll.

A fragile groan escaped Laryll's lips and she felt utterly ashamed. She couldn't help herself. Vaughan's fingers moved inside her, getting her wet and wobbly. No man had done this to her, and it was so unfair that this monster was the first one. When she moaned, she bit her tongue, but there was not enough force to do any damage. Vaughan began to speed up and claimed her breast, licking the nipple. His fingers teased, rubbed and thrust hard and fast, making Laryll's leg cramp. She breathed heavily and her sweat joined her tears. Never would she had guessed it took this kind of humiliation to make her cry since parting from Zevran.

"Stop it. Stop... Please...", Laryll sobbed between the gaps of her breaths. Her childhood friend still occupied her thoughts as she lay on the bed. Hurt, disgraced, violated.

The Bann withdrew himself from Laryll. "I look forward to hearing your screams during the next step", he said with amusement and began to remove his shirt.

_ Someone, anyone..._

The monster opened his belt.

_Someone..._

Suddenly a clicking noise came from the double door and it was kicked open, two male elves stepping into the room. They both instantly saw Laryll on the bed with only her panties on. The blond one cursed and glared at Vaughan.

"Well well, looks like the husband finally came for his bride", the Bann grinned and rose from the bed. He grabbed his sword and shield which were leaning against a closet and approached the elves.

"You will die for what you have done, _shem_", Nelaros growled and readied his blade. "We rescued our own and took care of your petty guards, now it's your turn."

Laryll weakly turned her head, looking at the elves with her tear-filled eyes. "Nelaros... Soris...", she whispered.

Soris drew an arrow from his quiver, but he didn't have time to load the bow. Vaughan was already upon them, swinging his sword at Nelaros. Laryll's betrothed dodged the blow and counterattacked. For Soris' luck the human had to turn his back on him in order to get to Nelaros, so he loaded his bow and shot. The arrow hit Vaughan's shoulder, and the Bann cursed. He didn't let the wound interrupt his attack and thrust his sword, hitting Nelaros.

With a grunt the blond elf jumped back, but didn't release his grip from the weapon he held. The Bann was clearly going to be a tougher opponent than the guards. He roared and pressed on, gathering his strength in one massive strike. The blade came down, but it didn't hit its target. Soris had reloaded and a new arrow flew through air. Vaughan raised his shield and its metal part stopped the arrow's flight. He saw his opportunity and spun with the sword. Nelaros, who was recovering from his earlier attack, had no chance to evade.

"Nelaros!" Soris shouted, but the blond elf's stomach was already opened.

Blood splattered all over the place and on Vaughan's satisfied face. Nelaros collapsed on the floor and coughed out blood. The light was slowly dimming in his eyes and he met Laryll's horrified gaze. He tried to mutter something, but the words didn't come out.

Laryll's eyes were red from all the crying. She couldn't move, couldn't help Nelaros who had risked his life for her and was now dying because of the monster. The only thing she could do was to blame herself. She's the one who had caused this. She had wished for someone to come help her. It was all her fault. Not even Zevran would forgive her.

Stunned Soris saw Vaughan coming for him just in time. The human tried to bash him with the shield, but Soris stepped out of the way. With Nelaros down it had become extremely difficult. The bow was no use in melee, and he had no sword or even dagger. A few slashes of Vaughan's blade hit him, but he concentrated on dodging. He took a glimpse at Laryll, and was immediately knocked prone by the pommel of the Bann's sword.

Vaughan pointed his weapon at Soris. "Time for your last words, knife-ear. Make them good."

Soris heard a gasp from Laryll, and Vaughan's arms were pulled behind the Bann's back. "What are you waiting for, shoot!" Nelaros growled, holding the human's arms.

Reacting quickly to the situation, Soris didn't bother to stand up and loaded his bow. Just when Vaughan had succeeded at freeing himself, Soris' arrow pierced his eye, drilling deep into the brains of the monster. Not a hiss came from Vaughan when he fell to his knees and slumped dead.

Soris hurried to Nelaros, who had fallen again and was bleeding badly, but the blond elf ordered Soris to take care of Laryll first. The elf nodded and walked fast to his cousin. He saw the bruises, the red spots on her neck, the spit of that disgusting human, but commanded himself to get a grip. He refused to use the blankets with that _shem's_ smell still in them to cover Laryll, so he searched the closet to find a clean one. He wrapped the fragile figure in a white sheet he found and lifted her.

"It's alright now", he shushed. "Shianni and the others are safe, now you are too."

The tears had stopped. Laryll couldn't cry anymore, she felt too broken. All the time her eyes were set on Nelaros. Her strength had not come back yet, and she had no luxury of getting embarrassed of her nude, violated body. Apparently, Soris had noticed Laryll's staring and with her in his arms he cringed beside Nelaros, supporting the red-haired elf's head so it wouldn't loll.

"Nelaros", Laryll called with a low voice.

"I'm sorry, Laryll", the blond elf lying on his back replied with a smile. "I don't think I have too much time left. I'm sorry it came to this."

"No, it is my fault. All of it. Please don't die, not because of me."

"My love, that is the one thing I'm not sorry about. I'm happy to go for you to survive. Never doubt that."

Laryll flushed a bit, and it showed well because of her pale face. Nelaros brushed away the last tear Laryll could shed, his mouth forming the words 'I love you' before his eyes closed and the hand dropped on the floor.

0-0-0-0-0

It had been a day after the incident. A full investigation was going regarding the murder of Bann Vaughan. The city guards noted the slightest of misbehavior in the districts of Denerim. Especially the elves were under the pressure. It seemed like everyone knew that Laryll had attacked Vaughan, so she was the prime suspect. Patrolling through the alienage increased. The true horrors were swept under a mat, people only focusing on finding out where was the knife-ear who had dared to kill a human.

It was late, and Soris had made it past the guards when entering the Pearl, a brothel in Denerim. His cousin had begged him not to take her back to the alienage. He could see why. How would anyone face their family and friends after something like this?

He gently knocked on a door of one of the rooms. "It's me."

A voice allowed him to go in. Soris shut the door behind him and looked at Laryll, who was sitting in front of a fireplace. She had wrapped herself in her black cloak, the long crimson hair running along her back. She was twiddling a golden ring between her fingers, and Soris recognized the piece of jewelry. It was Laryll's engagement ring which he had found on Nelaros and had given it to her after they had fled Vaughan's house.

"I got you something", Soris said and sat on a chair next to Laryll. He had used the money he had found from Vaughan's mansion to buy Laryll some clothes, but now he had brought with him the items she had requested.

"My daggers", Laryll was surprised and Soris handed them to her. "You...you got them from my home?"

"Wasn't easy, but Cyrion just happened to leave his house for a couple of minutes", Soris said. "He stays inside in case you would return."

Laryll shivered and lowered her head. She put the ring in her pocket and stared at her weapons. "I'm not going back", she mumbled.

"Eventually you have to, otherwise everyone would begin to think you're dead."

"Then let them think", Laryll snapped. "I can't stay in this city anymore. Those _shems _are looking for me and everywhere I look I can only remember..." She bit her lip and avoided looking at her cousin. "I have to leave, tonight. If the guards pursue me, it'll lead them away from the real killer. And when they find out I'm missing, they will assume I have run off."

"The guards will think that running away proves your guilt", the brown-haired elf pointed out, but he knew this was exactly this woman's intention. To protect him.

Soris looked into Laryll's purple eyes, which were full of determination. He had never seen her so weak as on that horrible night, and he hoped never to see her like that again. He sighed and set his hand on Laryll's shoulder. "If you think that is for the best. I will help you, whatever you need."

"Tell father, and only father, that I'm alive and well. Tell him... Tell him I had to find my friend, that I thought he could help me at something, anything. Say nothing about the truth."

"And is this friend an Antivan?" Soris chuckled, but Laryll stayed serious, so he gave up. "Okay, I will do that. There are bound to be some guards at the gates of the city, but I can lure them away."

Laryll took Soris' hand from her shoulder and placed it against her cheek. "Thank you, Soris. I will never forget what you have done for me."

The elf pulled Laryll in a warm hug. If this was what it would take not to see that red-eyed, sad face anymore, so be it. Soris wiped his eyes. There had been too much grieving already, now was the time to look ahead and stay strong. For his cousin's sake.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again, and first of all thank you for reading, reviewing and clicking on that 'favorite' box. You are the best!**

**I'm gonna be a bit busy because I'm moving to England on next Monday. Feeling sorry about that because of the cliffhanger in this chapter, but I'll continue as soon as I'm able, no worries. So get some music suitable for action and sadness and enjoy!**

Laryll lifted the hood of her cloak to cover her flaming strands of hair, the most obvious feature if the guards were to meet her with the description of their suspect in Vaughan's murder. She carefully fastened the copper buckle of the cloak and made sure the two daggers strapped to her back didn't show. She felt a bit naked without any armor, but with the whole city looking for her and without money she had no choice in the matter. Getting her weapons was already risky, and when she met Soris' inquiring look, Laryll smiled at her cousin.

"Are you ready?" asked Soris, his hand on Laryll's shoulder.

"Yes, let's go", Laryll whispered and let Soris lead the way.

The sun was setting, there was not much time. The two elves left the Pearl behind them and used the winding alleys to get to the main gates of Denerim. Few guards on their night shift patrolled the districts, but Soris assured Laryll he knew how to get past them. And he was not lying. He had played in this area with Laryll when they were just brats. The shady spots from the times of hide and seek proved their usefulness now. It seemed the guards had no idea of what was going on.

Soris helped his cousin to descend from a roof of the stable they had climbed on in order to avoid a guard. He was aware of Laryll's extraordinary flexibility and strength, but he could still see the effects of that horrid night on her. The girl's eyes had dark circles around them, and she was a little shaky. Soris did not give her worried look, that would just be an insult. He had no idea what this elf was going through, and knew she was too proud to ask for help.

The two reached their destination, and Soris signaled Laryll to wait until he had counted the guards. "There's five of them", he sighed when he had returned to Laryll, both of them crouching in the shadows. "I was hoping the majority would be near alienage."

"That means they know for certain I'm not among the other elves anymore", the rogue pointed out. Her finger twitched.

"I told you, I'm going to handle this. Just be ready to run through the gates once I've distracted the guards."

Laryll opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her cousin was doing this for her, even though she had not expected him to do so. She didn't care if these _shems_ would have followed her all the way to Antiva or Orlais, as long as the other elves would be safe, Soris included.

Before Soris could rise, Laryll tugged his sleeve, making his head spin back to his cousin. "Please be careful", she said in a low voice. "And... Thank you."

Soris smirked and ruffled her hood, some of the crimson hair escaping from their hide. Then he took a small pocket knife from a leather bag hanging on his waist and made a wry face as he slightly cut his arm, leaving an angry red injury behind. Soris ignored his cousin's concerned stare and smiled to let her know this was part of his plan. He wiped the blood from the knife and put it away, but left the wound to bleed.

With a small rustle he rose from the bushes and approached the guards, waving his arms around and acting frantic. "Help me! Guards!" Soris shouted. "That murderer is after me! The one who killed Bann Vaughan!"

A guard armed with a battleaxe exchanged glares with a fighter in chain mail beside him. "Slow down, elf", he hissed. "Andraste's butt, what are you rumbling about?"

"I was chased by the killer who took lord Vaughan's life. Look!" Soris extended his injured arm, blood dripping on stone pavement.

"What is this ruckus about?" a guard with three followers demanded to know when he had marched to Soris. "It's almost time to close the city doors, why are you, elf, in this district?" He fiercely looked at the bleeding man.

"And what do you know about this murderer? It is not exactly a common knowledge", the heavy-armored gatekeeper queried.

"The murderer told me!" Soris kept bluffing. "Said that I would face the same fate as the Bann. Described in great detail how he, or she, had killed the lord!"

The guard leading his two companions rubbed his beard, his eyes piercing the elf in front of him. "You", he pointed his finger at one of the humans at the gate, "take this elf back to the alienage and see that his wounds are treated. Your friend will stay and close the gate." He leaned closer to Soris. "Where did you encounter this killer?"

"I escorted a friend of mine to his house near the alienage, and as I was returning home, this figure who was dressed in black attacked me. My path to the alienage was blocked, so I had to run here", Soris cooked up and pressed the wound on his arm with his hand.

The leader narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out Soris' lie. "You outran the murderer, huh? Lucky, aren't you", he sneered, but because Soris didn't sweat under the pressure, he turned to his men. "You two will come with me. We'll accompany them", he nodded at the elf and the guard beside him, "and check that alley on our way to the alienage. Let's move."

Soris quietly gritted his teeth. One of the guards was staying on his post, and he was not pleased with that. But if he knew Laryll at all, she would take this chance, even if it meant dealing with the remaining problem. Maybe these humans would accuse him of helping someone leave the city if the gatekeeper were to be found dead or unconscious, but he didn't care. All that mattered was for Laryll to get out of Denerim.

Without being aware, Laryll shared her cousin's thoughts. She would have to do something about the guard who was going to be left behind, but it would certainly make Soris look like he had a part in that. She couldn't come up with another solution and watched as the leader in his shiny armor took his _shems_ and headed to where her home was. Soris was walked by the guard close by him and they kept their distance from the group ahead.

With a brief glimpse Laryll saw Soris' mouth form the word 'go' to her. She gulped and spun her head back to the gatekeeper. The human's chain mail clattered when he dragged himself towards the watchtower next to the gate. Laryll abandoned her hiding place with an agile jump and tripped to the wall where the shadows still concealed her. She waited for her moment, and as soon as the guard's figure disappeared into the tower, she rushed forward, staying near the wall. She could hear the guards footsteps going up. Just in time she passed the gate and hid herself behind the nearest tree. She caught her breath and stared the _shem_ rotate a winch in the watchtower, which made the city doors shut with a deep bang.

When Laryll was absolutely sure no-one saw her, she slumped on cold grass, her legs shaking. She had been too lucky, not needing to knock the guard out. Something wet was dripping on her chest, but she made no attempt to wipe away the marks of weakness. The elf looked at the sky and saw the first dim stars had appeared. Suddenly the hollow look on her face was replaced by silent laughter.

"I forgot to bring a bedroll with me", she told herself with a smile when she imagined Zev nagging at her for being so thoughtless.

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll traveled to the west. She remembered seeing a village of Lothering on a map in Valendrian's house. That place should be good enough to keep her hidden until she would decide her next course of action. She could go back to Antiva, but first she would have to find some work to make money. Her few silvers, which she had received from Soris, weren't going to provide her food and lodging for long. Laryll's tangled thoughts kept her from sleep and the elf walked almost the whole night, not getting worried of the tiny amount of rest she would have.

After hours Laryll stopped to drink from a river she had come across. The cool moisture nursed her dry lips and she sighed from relief. Lowering herself in order to wash her face saved her from an arrow, which flew above her, piercing a trunk on the other side of the river.

The elf flinched, her hood dropping on her shoulders. She quickly drew her daggers and stood up, scanning the surroundings. It was dark, and the only sound came from an owl in the distance. She licked her upper lip, tightening the grip on the sharp weapons.

Another arrow was shot at her, but this time Laryll could see the enemy. The archer was on a hill, behind a spruce and soon she noticed two more bandits coming at her with their exposed swords.

"She's alone, kill her and loot the body!" the marksman ordered his minions, reloaded his longbow and began aiming at the elf.

Laryll dashed and kept her head low. She soon engaged the two human scums in a melee, hoping their leader's arrows would maybe hit the wrong targets. With a swift slash the cut the other opponent's thigh, letting the splattering blood stain her fluttering cloak. She dodged a blow which came from her right and tripped the bandit who had the same two-weapon fighting style as her. She preferred to battle the injured human first, as he had only a longsword and looked weaker.

But a sound of _thud_ on her left arm reminded Laryll that she was wearing no armor at all. She grunted at the sight of an ugly arrow sticking out of her and the opponent who had been knocked prone used his advantage. A handful of sand was thrown on Laryll's face, leaving her stunned. She rolled backwards, but the _shem _with longsword managed to wound her side. Blood made dots on grass, and more red joined the green when Laryll removed the arrow.

The leader of the bandits took a few steps ahead and smirked. "Would you like to beg, knife-ear? I would almost pay to see that."

_Beg me, scream my name, moan._

Laryll's eyes widened from terror when she heard the disgusting voice in her head. Rage and hate began consuming her. These bastard _shems_. These filthy _shems_. She would never forgive them. They killed her mother. They violated her. They robbed her first kiss. They made her cry. The hands of these foul creatures would never again touch her. There was only one who was allowed to stroke her skin, to brush her long hair, without a need to ask for her permission. And that person was not here. Hadn't been for thirteen years.

_What if I won't see him ever again? What do I do if he's..._

A roar from the elf's mouth released her from stupid ideas. She advanced and faced all three blades waiting for her. The injured one took a defensive position, and Laryll acknowledged this in time. Just when she was only a few meters away from the bandits, she slid along the ground, getting below the human with the longsword. Evading was impossible for him when Laryll surged herself up diagonally, her foot landing on the human's jaw. The enemy staggered and Laryll finished him by sinking her dagger into his chest, penetrating the heart. The blade let out a cracking sound when twisted by the elf, and the victim dropped dead.

The leader screamed his remaining underling to end the bitch, but Laryll was already upon the source of the cry. Killing the leader first could make an impact on the other guy's morale, plus he was equipped with a ranged weapon, making him an easy target for her daggers. She lunged directly at the terrified human, and before his voice could ruin Laryll's ears more, the two blades dug into flesh. The leader gasped, like he was trying to gather back his escaping life force, but he collapsed after Laryll pulled her weapons out.

The elf heard the last man starting to run away. She made a 180-degree turn, the strands of her bright red hair getting a quick lick of her bloody face. She threw her dagger, and it thumped on the deserter's back. The human fell down cursing and reached his hand to take the blade off.

While the bandit struggled, Laryll walked to him and placed her boot on top of his head, pressing it down. "Were you just normal bandits, _shem_, or did someone send you after me? Speak", she growled.

"Knife-ear bitch, you think you're tough?" the human hissed while Laryll's boot was about to mash his ear.

"So there's nothing useful you could tell me. Pity." With a fast technique she took the man's head between her hands and snapped his neck. She spat on the corpse and retrieved her weapon. Laryll did not bother to hide the bodies. _Let the animals do what they want with their disgusting meat_, her voice mumbled in her ear.

The bandits had four gold and twenty silver pieces on them. Their rations and skins of water did not interest Laryll. She would never allow herself to touch the food of filthy humans. But she did recover one injury kit and a map from the leader. She found Lothering on it, and was pleased to know she had been going to the right direction. The elf found some bandages from the injury kit and wrapped the white cloth around her left arm. She cleaned the wound on her side with water, but didn't have enough bandage to cover it. The fatigue was beginning to show on her body, but making a camp here was not an option.

Instead, Laryll slapped her cheeks, ordering herself to stay sharp and travel at least a couple of miles towards the town before getting some sleep. She dipped her daggers into the river and a liquid trail of blood detached from them. With a clean spot of the cloak Laryll dried the twins, taking a better care of them than herself, just as her mother had told her.

0-0-0-0-0

The lonely elf had caught only two hours of sleep. She had searched for a perfect place to rest, and found an old campsite. Despite the dry wood all around her, she had not had enough strength to make fire, so she had decided to shut her eyes for as long as she dared. That had been two hours.

As soon as she had woken up, Laryll had hunted a small rabbit for her breakfast. The chewy meat filled her stomach for a while, though according to her nausea she may not had cooked the animal for long enough. She hadn't camped outside for ages. The last time was back in Antiva, when Zev came up with an idea of spending a night under the stars with Laryll. She remembered having been extremely sad on that day, but when Zevran had surprised her with his plan, she had forgotten what had made her cry so. The tears of joy had taken the place of her tears of sorrow.

Laryll snarled when her wounds ached. The veins in the injured arm popped and the cut near her ribs had dyed her blue shirt. _Why the hell there are no taverns anywhere along this road_, she wondered, getting angry from pain. She took no notice of the sweat dribbling from her face, she just pushed on.

It was almost two hundred miles from Denerim to Lothering. Normally the trip should take at least a week, but without much sleep during the nights and only a few breaks Laryll estimated she could get to the village in less than four days. Her days would consist only of walking and occasionally stopping for food and water. Ambitious goal, but she had to hurry. Having no idea if there were hunters after her made her nose itch, so to keep moving was her only plan of being sure she wasn't caught.

Little did she know how agonizing the following days would be. On the second day since leaving the alienage she encountered a pack of wolves. She had once fought a wolf before, but not a whole group of them. Her movements had been slower because of the injuries, but she had managed to kill the smaller beasts with ease. The pack leader, however, had pinned her down and reopened the arrow wound on her arm. The creature had also bit Laryll's leg before dying by her blades. She kept on hiking through the forest after the fight, even though every step with her left leg now spread heating pain through the whole body.

The third day was even worse. No random battles, but her older wounds had begun to fester a bit and she had a high fever. Laryll had torn strips from her cloak and bound the damaged areas, but she was no healer. She had always been good in battle, but with no armor to protect her and her mind wandering in distracting thoughts she had been forced to cross her limits. The elf was not suffering from serious blood loss yet, but she knew an infection would surely kill her quicker. Insomnia still disturbed her nights, and she had lost her appetite. The breaks during her journey were spent on nursing the injuries and concentrating on breathing. She was afraid of sitting down because she was unsure whether she could get back up or not.

And then came the dawn of the fourth day since abandoning Denerim. The elf was a wreck. She couldn't feel her legs, and her throat was so dry she thought someone had poured sand in it. The singing of birds was just unclear noise to her ears, which were burning because of her fever. Laryll couldn't remember the last time she had eaten, nor how many miles had she left behind her. Everywhere she saw images. Hallucinations of wolves and bandits. Longing faces of Cyrion, Shianni and Soris. Laughing figure of Zevran as a kid. There were only two questions in her head, spinning around and trying to keep her awake: _Where the hell are all the taverns?_ _Would we even recognize each other if I happened to meet Zev?_

Suddenly Laryll fell prone. She clutched her teeth together when hitting the ground, all of her wounds reminding her about their existence. The elf lay there, silent and immobile. Her body screamed for help, but she made no effort to listen to the advice. The cool rocks beneath her hot cheek were a remedy enough for a moment. The urge to close her eyes was overwhelming.

But she was snatched back from the closing darkness by noises. Laryll turned her head, jaw scratching the rocky road. _A battle_, she realized. The sounds were nearby, tempting her to get up and go investigate. Her chewed leg told her otherwise. The blood slowly streaming from her side pleaded her to reconsider. The arrow wound threatened her not to do anything stupid. But she had always been stubborn.

Laryll heaved herself up so forcefully she was about to vomit. She let the voices from the battle guide her. It became so hard to keep her heavy eyelids from shutting themselves. She literally dragged her protesting left leg behind her and kept swallowing the tiny amounts of spit in her mouth. She was close. The fight would be just behind the hill up ahead. If whatever was ahead attacked her, she would at least have a warrior's death. Way cooler than dying from a wound infection.

She lowered herself and crawled on top of the hill and took a peek at the fight. There were so many people. _Shems_, elves, even a mabari. It looked like they were divided in two parties: one consisted of a human female fighter with a huge sword, that dog creature, a man with a sword and shield and lastly a mage. The group attacking them was lead by a blond elf swinging two daggers while his underlings sent swarms of arrows. It seemed the female fighter's gang was winning. The mabari was feasting on one elf's throat, the mage in a black weird outfit cast a freezing spell against an another elf armed with a bow, killing him. One by one the archers were being wiped out.

But Laryll's eyes were fixed on the blond leader. This elf's fighting style was so similar to hers. Not because of the same shared techniques of two-weapon fighters, but the flow of his moves and the exploit of great dexterity. She stared as the elven leader's blades kept cutting his enemies, blood flying in the air. But she could see some hesitation. The same kind she had seen Zevran show for her when they had sparred. How much that elf's beautiful hair with a small braid tied on back of his head reminded her of Zev's...

"_Braska_!" the elf cursed when the _shem_ equipped with shield injured him, making him take a few steps back and the blades stopped their dance.

_That voice_, Laryll quivered and her eyes widened more than ever. It was so familiar. Deeper, but familiar. She had forgotten about her pain and wasn't aware of her near-death condition anymore. She wanted to trust her instincts. It didn't matter if she wasn't right, she would soon die anyway. So she bit her lip as in ordering her body to endure this last push before getting eternal sleep and dashed.

The others did not see her running down the hill. The mage had changed into a giant spider and with the mabari they finished another bandit. Only one marksman and the leader were left, and the female with her two-handed sword was about to land a massive blow against the latter.

That was the idea before Laryll jumped in between the fighter and the elf, glaring at the human and her arms spread to cover her kin behind her back. "Stop, do not kill him!" she cried in a rough, dry voice. Her purple tired eyes met the woman's green, reduced pupils.

Once again, she heard the sound of _thud_. Only this time it didn't come from her arm, but her chest. A long arrow with soft feathers was decorating her front. There was a copper taste on her tongue and her legs finally gave away. Before Laryll slumped the blond elf caught her and gently positioned her on the ground. Her red hair sprawled all over on the elf's lap, and she wasn't sure what were those emotions she could see on the man's face. Laryll's vision got blurry, and it didn't get any better from the tear she shed when the elf cupped her cheek and spoke again.

"Laryll?" Zevran's trembling voice asked.

Glad that her instincts were at last correct, Laryll welcomed the darkness which came for her, thanking the gods for fulfilling her final wish.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again and thanks for reading/reviewing/following! This is the first chapter written in England. I got selected to the school I applied for, thank you so much for your support! And we can move to our new apartment somewhere in September (staying at friend's until that), so everything is going better than fine. There are still a lot of things to be taken care of, so please be gentle, I'll try to update this as often as possible!**

Laryll opened her eyes. She was laying on hard floor in a small dark room. There were no furniture, no carpets, nothing. It was completely empty and dreary. There was no smell, no sound except for the noise her breathing caused.

She flinched and promptly stood up. She started to check her body. No cuts or bruises, not even a slightest amount of dirt. And she was wearing a white short dress, which she did not remember of having. Her long hair wasn't messy and stained with blood and sweat. It hung nobly, covering her shoulders and protecting her back. The elf was quite sure she had some kind of weapons with her before. She couldn't recognize this place, and the void was making her feel anguished.

After her eyes got used to the darkness, she noticed a door. Laryll squinted and took a few careful steps towards it. When nothing bad happened, she walked the rest of the way and reached the door. She touched it with the tip of her finger, and identified cool iron. With a shrug she put her hand against the door and pushed.

0-0-0-0-0

_It was raining. It was like some kind of important god had died and the entire heaven was grieving. The sky rumbled, but there were no massive thunderbolts. Water poured from the roofs of houses and shops of Antiva, and the market was closed due to the bad weather._

_ Zevran ran through the street, water splashing around when he stepped in the puddles. He breathed heavily from exhaustion, and stopped for a while to catch his breath. There was something in his arms, wrapped in cloths, and he was holding the lump tightly against his chest so that it wouldn't get wet. Alarmed by a louder peal Zevran swept away some wet strands of hair on his face and kept running._

_ He arrived at the Dusk, the brothel where he and his mother lived. He was about to enter, but an entertainer on the terrace ordered him to remove his shoes first. Zevran apologized for having almost forgotten. He kicked tiny sandals from his feet and rushed upstairs. The entertainer snorted, collected the elf's shoes and placed them neatly next to all the other boots by the entrance._

_ The blond boy sighed and knocked on a red wooden door. While waiting for a reply he kept glimpsing at the lump of cloth he was holding._

_ "Come in", a gentle female voice answered from the room, and Zevran complied._

_ A beautiful elf sat in front of a large mirror, brushing her long golden hair, when she noticed Zevran peeking into the room. "What are you doing, Zev?", she asked. "You may come in."_

_ A bit unsure, Zevran obeyed and quickly but silently closed the door._

_ "Is something wrong, my dear?" the woman frowned and rose from her seat._

_ "I..." Zevran began and gulped. "I... I found something. Please don't get mad, mom. I just couldn't leave her alone."_

_ "Her?"_

_ The boy opened some of the wrappings around the lump he was carrying. His mother looked at him curiously, and with a gasp her hand flew to her mouth when she saw a baby girl being revealed. She exchanged gazes with her son and stared at the sleeping child. Zevran didn't say anything. Water was still dripping from him, but he had managed to keep the baby dry._

_ Zevran's mother shut her eyes for a moment. Then she stretched out her arms and nodded at the boy. Zevran blinked, but quickly realized his mother wanted him to give the baby to her. He went nearer the female elf and passed the lump along. The girl let out a small noise, but the woman cradled her and began humming a tune. Zevran knew the song was the very same he had heard many times over. It had always calmed him, and now it was able to quiet the baby who sniveled in peace._

_ "I thought you were out to play, not to collect girls", the elven woman smiled at her son and put the baby onto her soft bed. She removed the cloths and tossed them on the floor. "Please bring me a clean towel and one of your shirts from the closet, would you?"_

_ The baby girl was dressed in a white t-shirt. Zevran laughed. The girl looked silly in his clothes which were too big for her. His mother moistened the towel with warm water from a bowl on her table and patted the baby's head and face with the cloth. She told Zevran to get one of his blankets, and once the boy had did as asked, she curled the girl in the comfortable felt and lifted her._

_ The woman had a sad look on her face."Not a newborn, but she can't be more than one year old, poor thing."_

_ "Can she stay?" Zevran's hesitant voice asked. His eyes wandered around the ornate carpet on the floor._

_ The boy's mother chuckled. "I think it would be better for her to stay. I imagine it couldn't have been a pleasant place where you found her. Speaking of which.."_

_ "There was an abandoned house near the markets", Zevran quickly interrupted. "She was inside, crying. I tried to find her mom and dad, but I saw no-one, I swear."_

_ "I believe you, sweetie. We could try find her parents again tomorrow, but I doubt our investigation will be fruitful." As the child slept carefree and fast, the woman turned around and planned to put the girl in the bed. "What should we call her, any ideas?" she said over her shoulder._

_ Zevran's eyelids fluttered, and he lowered his head. "Uh, I dunno. Maybe...um...well... It should begin with L, I think. Or, um..."_

_ "I though you were the one with a large imagination", the female grinned. "Okay then, L it is. Liarell... Lana... No, those aren't good. Lytha... Laura...-"_

_ "Laryll."_

_ "Sorry?"_

_ "Laryll", Zevran repeated himself, his cheeks red._

_ "Why that's a pretty name. Laryll it is. Now you're able to say goodnight to her."_

_ Zevran stroked the baby's red hair. "Good night, Laryll."_

0-0-0-0-0

The door closed itself, covering the blinding light behind it, and disappeared. Laryll felt small rivers streaming along her face. She still didn't know what was going on. Why was she seeing these images? Where was she? What had happened?

She tried to wrap her head around this. Her childhood friend had saved and named her. How come he hadn't mentioned those things before? Laryll leaned against the cold wall, because she was about to pass out. She had a hard time at breathing, and her sobbing was not helping. The elf tried to recreate the scenes she had seen in her head, but the confusion just made everything worse. She let out a small, forced laugh, which soon was covered by her crying.

Laryll's wet eyes met the second door, which had appeared right after the first one had vanished. It was identical to the one she had already opened, and that made her nervous. Would there be more painful memories she didn't know of existing? A voice in her mind told her not to open the door.

But Laryll's adoptive mother had always adviced her to follow her instincts. And so she did, and her hand landed against the door, giving it a tiny push.

0-0-0-0-0

"_Please, Laryll! Come down, you'll get hurt!"_

_ Zevran's command hung in the air, not being heard. Laryll kept climbing the tall tree, determined to get the baby bird in her hand back to its nest where it had fallen from. She squeezed the bird gently against her chest and with the free arm slowly dragged herself higher and higher._

_ "Laryll! I'm begging you here, can't you see?" Zevran started to become annoyed. He had been at the Dusk, when a kid from next door had come to tell him about Laryll's little attempt. She had climbed half of the tree before he had arrived. Zevran was seriously considering of climbing after her, but he had to remain down in case the girl would drop. Although he tried not to think about that._

_ The nest was built on a thick branch and there were two other birds in it. Laryll wrapped her arm around the trunk and reached out the hand holding the chick. She sighed from relief when the bird took a step back into where it belonged. Its brothers welcomed her with a lot of tweeting._

_ She fixed her position in order to begin climbing down. There were many good spots to support her feet and lot of branches to grab. Smoothly Laryll was descending, and Zevran's face looked a little less worried._

_ As soon as Laryll's legs touched the ground again, Zevran put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a serious glare. "You, my dear elf, are the most troublesome and craziest girl I've encountered. I can't even imagine the deeds you will be doing once you grow up."_

_ Laryll wiped some dirt from her pants. "I'm almost five, I can take care of myself", she boasted._

_ "Yes of course", Zevran snorted and avoided Laryll's angry gaze. "Shall we go back? Mom must be eager to hear about your adventure."_

_ Together the two elves headed home to the Dusk. The sun was setting and the merchants of Antiva were closing their doors and packing their things._

_ The next morning came quickly. The rays of the sun invaded Zevran's room and he found himself waking up a bit more perky than usual. He just ignored that and went to wake Laryll up, like he had done almost every morning._

_ "Laryll, can I come in?" Zevran inquired once he was behind Laryll's door. He didn't get an answer._

_ "Laryll? Are you there?"_

_ Again, not a sound._

_ Zevran shrugged and opened the door a little. He could see the girl in her bed, tangled in her blankets. He stepped inside and didn't bother to close the door behind him. He almost tiptoed to Laryll, even though he was here to awake her._

_ Zevran tenderly shook the girl. "Hey, Laryll? Are you okay?"_

_ "Mmh", came a mumbling reply. "I... I don't know... My stomach feels weird, and there's this, um...lump in my throat."_

_ With a swift movement Zevran's hand flew to touch Laryll's forehead. "You're burning up", he said in a concerned voice. "Wait here, I'll get mom." He ran like it was his last day on earth, quickly apologizing to the ladies he startled during his little marathon._

_ The kitchen was busy, and Zevran's mother was preparing breakfast with couple of other women. She was about to test the taste of a soup when Zevran burst into the room, panting and staring at her eyes wide._

_ "What's wrong, Zev?" the female elf asked and put her spoon away. "You look like there's a fire or something."_

_ "A fire inside Laryll", Zevran corrected his mother. "She's sick, you have to go to her."_

_ "Oh dear", the woman gasped. She received an accepting nod from the other workers and turned back to her son. "Take a bowl and fill it with cold water, I'll go ahead." Her heels clacked when she hurried to the third floor._

_ Zevran soon followed the woman and had the bowl of water with him. He placed it on the table, and his mother dowsed a towel she had. The cloth was put on Laryll's forehead. The girl hadn't said anything since the two elves had entered her room. She felt like if she spoke, something else than words would come out of her mouth._

_ The female elf shook her head. "This is not a flu. I think this is salmonella or something similar. She must have got it from that bird she rescued."_

_ Zevran looked hopeless and lost._

_ His mother stroke his cheek. "Don't give me such a sad look. It is a tough disease, but she'll get better. Just stay with her and keep the towel cold. I'll go and buy some medicine. There's a merchant at the market with a lot of different herbs, I bet he has something that will cure this." She gave a kiss on Zevran's head and scurried away._

_ With a sigh Zevran sat on Laryll's bed. He thrust the skirts of the blankets under Laryll and swept some of her red hair away from her face. "I'll stay with you, no need to be worried. You'll be protected", he promised._

_ Laryll kept her eyes shut and thought of ways to show her gratitude without having to speak. She also thought what an idiot she was. Yesterday she had proudly stated she could take care of herself. Now she was bound to bed, unable to move and talk. She was rather grateful for the latter, because at least she wouldn't be in danger of saying anything stupid again._

_ Her finger twitched, but it was immediately claimed into Zevran's hand. The elf's cool palm felt nice against Laryll's warm fingers, so she squeezed tighter. Even the itching on her nose stopped._

0-0-0-0-0

The second door closed too and vanished right after that. Laryll was left in the darkness and silence, which was broken only by her sniffling. She had a feeling that before coming in this place, she had been very sick. She wondered if that was the reason the second door had shown her this slice of her past. How many doors she would have to still open to make this torture stop? She wished to rest, to close her eyes and drift somewhere peaceful and bright.

And then a third door was in front of her. The door had some kind of carvings. Shapes of different races and plants and there was the sun, too. Unlike the other two doors, this one had a golden handle. When Laryll touched the door, it was smooth wood, not iron. She fingered the carvings, following the curves and admiring the artwork. She hadn't even noticed that her eyes had gotten used to the blackness around her. Or maybe it was just because of this specific door. Behind it must be something nice. Maybe some kind of freedom.

Then Laryll heard a voice in her head. It wasn't hers, it was more masculine, and it was calling her name desperately. She turned around, but saw no-one. She snorted. _I must be hearing things_, she thought. Her hand was going for the handle on the door, when she heard the voice again. This time it was more demanding and...sad. Like someone was telling her not to jump from a roof.

"Who's there?" she whispered. Not even echo answered her.

She waited and soon heard someone speaking again.

_Wake up Laryll. Please. You can't do this to me._

There was something familiar in the voice, but Laryll couldn't put her finger on it. She stepped away from the door and glimpsed her surroundings, trying to find the source of the noise.

_Please, Laryll. Come back. Don't you dare leave me like this._

She came to realize that every time she got further from the door, the voice became clearer. _Follow your instincts_, she told herself and inhaled lots of the air in the room. She slowly blew the oxygen out and walked away from the door. Once she reached the opposite wall, she touched it. The wall rippled and Laryll's hand went through it. _Follow your instincts_, she told herself again and dived into the wall.

0-0-0-0-0

"I'm very sorry, but I can't do more", said a mage and tried not to look into Zevran's eyes.

The elf gritted his teeth and almost spat on the wooden floor. He knew it would be unfair to take his anger out on this man, who had helped at his best ability. Unfortunately, his best ability was not enough. The another mage downstairs, the shapeshifter, wasn't capable of healing. This mage, who happened to pass the village, had been his only hope.

"I could try contacting the Circle mages, but I'm afraid it would take too long for them to come here", the mage lowered his head.

"You do that", Zevran spat. "She's a fighter, she can hold on. She must."

The mage nodded and excused himself. Once he had left the room, Zevran's quick hand grabbed a bottle from a table and the item flew against the wall, the glass shattering and the alcohol splattering around. He swore that if anyone came through the door, that person's face would be the next target. He used almost every curse word he could think of in Antiva before forcing himself to sit and calm down.

He leaned his head against his crossed fingers, his elbows resting on his knees. After a while he raised his head and looked at Laryll, who was laying on the bed. Her chest went up and down too rarely. Zevran moved to kneel beside Laryll's bed and he brushed her pale cheek with his trembling fingers.

"My dear Laryll, please, come back", Zevran begged. He had so much to say, but in order to keep his cool, he left the words to be unspoken. Instead, he took Laryll's hand into his and hoped she would feel his presence and strength.

The morning came with rain, but at least it wasn't windy. The people of Redcliffe village started their usual routines. The chantry opened its doors, the fishermen took their equipment and went to their boats and the tavern prepared to welcome more hungry or thirsty guests.

It wasn't bright like Laryll had hoped for, but it was quiet and warm. There were lots of unclear noises, and she could figure out what was the smell. Without haste she opened her eyes a bit, narrowing them because of her blurry vision. Everything was spinning and messy, and she felt like she was falling. When she was about to check was there anything below her, she sensed something in her hand. Her head turned and there was an sleeping elf leaning against her bed and he was holding her hand. When she forced her eyelids to open more, all she got was some fresh tears. There was only one thing she remembered: she had told herself to follow her instincts.

"Zev", she dryly whispered.

The elf flinched and his eyes met Laryll's. He lifted himself so that his elbows supported him and brought Laryll's hand inside his fingers. "Here I am", Zevran smiled.

"I... I promised...no to cry once we would...", Laryll tried to mutter through her sobs.

"I'm amazed you remember such an old promise. No harm done. After all here we are, no?"

Laryll's wounds screamed when she suddenly got up to sitting position and threw her arms around Zevran's neck. She had longed for the familiar Antivan accent. The smell of Antivan leather didn't bother her, because it came from Zevran. Her tears were once again staining the elf's shoulder.

"Please take it easy, you almost died", the rest of Zevran's words had a hesitant and sad tone in them. He snatched a glass of water and told Laryll to drink. When he was satisfied of the results, he fluffed Laryll's pillow and helped her lie down.

The injured elf was twitching from pain, but she couldn't look away from Zevran. "You've changed. A lot", she grinned.

"So I'm told, but just look at you", Zevran ran his fingers in Laryll's flaming strands of hair. "Such a beautiful hair and how cruelly you treat it. Don't all girls own a hairbrush or two?" It had been the hair which Zevran had first seen after Laryll had stopped the finishing blow aimed at him. Even though it has been so many years since he last saw her, he could recognize that red color anytime.

"What happened? My memory is quite hazy."

"No wonder", Zevran snorted. "You had very bad wound infection, thus you were running a high fever. If that wasn't enough to worry the others, you took an arrow to your chest. It nearly pierced your heart." He straightened his back and crossed his arms. "What made you to go on such a dangerous trip alone? And I know you wouldn't made such careless mistakes like not cleaning your wounds or getting so many of them. Where's your family, that, um...what was his name, Cyrion?"

Laryll stirred. She clenched her right fist, which was hidden under the blanket. There was no way she could tell him. Not yet. "Cyrion is fine, as are the other elves in Denerim, too", she explained silently. "I just needed to get out of the city, you know. To see more of Ferelden." She took a glimpse at her friend, who didn't seem to buy her friable story.

"I see", Zevran stated, not wanting to push Laryll.

"By the way, who were those people you were fighting against?", Laryll changed the subject. "I remember there were two or three, and an animal."

"The two Grey Wardens in that party were my targets. I was unlucky that they also had a mabari and a mage with them. The tables were turned when you showed up. I think they reviewed their opinion of me again when I almost carved out the eyes of my bastard companion who shot you."

"Targets?" Laryll clung on the word she heard.

"Ah, yes. Well, I'll tell you about that later", uneasy Zevran avoided the topic. "Just know that those same people helped me to carry you here. They paid for this room and told me they would wait at the Chantry for you to recover. Speaking of which", Zevran rose up, "you need to rest. And no buts. I don't want to see you in that kind of condition ever again."

The elf's voice was something Laryll could have listened to for eternity. She weakly bit her lower lip and her heart was speeding up. "I can't sleep knowing that you are here again", she bemoaned. "It's been thirteen years and I..." The words got stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard, ordering her tears not to come out.

After a short smile Zevran stooped, took Laryll's hand and placed a kiss on it. "If I'll tell you what I've been doing, you will have to return the favor. I won't leave you until you tell me what bothers you so much it almost got you killed."

A hint of red colored Laryll's pale face and she withdrew her hand from Zevran's. As usual, her friend had been able to read her like a book. Still, her mind was like a maze. All the thoughts were scattered and they were colliding with each other. But it was the memory of Bann Vaughan which had reserved the front seat. She could not return to Denerim anymore. She was reunited with Zevran at last, but it was so painful. There were so many things she wished to share with him but she was too afraid. Too afraid of what would he think of her.

Zevran walked towards the door, which he opened. "I'm really happy to see you again, Laryll", he mentioned over his shoulder. "I'm sorry I stopped writing, but...certain circumstances prohibited me from doing so. Sleep well, my favorite elf." He left the room and as soon as the door was closed, his glad face turned to stone, his mouth forming a thin line. He wasn't able to erase the harrowing image of his broken and distressed childhood friend. The elf wished for a good rest to bring the familiar smile on Laryll's face.

The sound of soft boots stomping assured Laryll that Zevran wasn't behind the door anymore. She burst into tears and bit the blanket hard in order not to be heard. The physical wounds were healing but her spirit was damaged badly. She wasn't sure if she could reveal anything to Zevran but she didn't want to lie either. _This isn't how a reunion is supposed to go_, she mumbled.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, the sticky tears drying from the heat on her face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Kyah hah haa, didn't expect an update this soon, now did ya?**

**Got the apartment me and my partner applied for, but it will take at least two weeks before we can move (more paperwork and the old tenants, that's why). My school starts also in two weeks or so, and that means I've got more free-time than I hoped for!**

**A lot of dialogue in this chapter, plus it's again a bit gloomy. The story will get its happier times, I swear.**

**Thanks for reading/reviewing/following/faving. Hugs for everyone!**

"Really? For three days?" Laryll scratched her head.

"Yes. After your little act, you were unconscious for three days", a sad voice from Zevran confirmed. He had gone back to Laryll as soon as the waitress from the tavern had brought him the news that the patient had woken up again. The first thing he had noticed after entering the room were Laryll's reddish eyes. He knew the marks of woman's tears when he saw them, but decided not to mention that. Instead, they had discussed about Laryll's condition and what did she remember before she had blacked out. She seemed quite stunned at the fact she had been out for so long.

Laryll leaned against the wall while she was sitting on her bed, the sluggish legs covered under the soft blankets. "I'm...sorry", a fragile apology came from her lips. "We finally found each other, and I messed that up with almost kicking the bucket. And", she rubbed her eyes, "by crying like a baby. I'm so sorry."

Zevran's smile was followed by a snort. "You certainly do not know how to make a good entrance. As for the crying part, I'm actually glad. I wasn't so sure would I still be worth of your tears."

The injured elf chuckled and whimpered a little when her wounds ached. She lifted her hand to stop Zevran from helping her. But she failed at that because the movement just resulted in more pain, and so Zevran took a healing potion from the table next to Laryll's bed and ordered her to drink it. The bitter liquid was quickly consumed, and Laryll grinned from relief.

"Honestly, what did the city do to you? You're even more stubborn than before", criticized Zevran and put the empty bottle from Laryll's hands away. He didn't let go of her hand but looked into the purple eyes. "I know you still haven't told me everything. Why did you leave Denerim?"

"You first", Laryll insisted, trying to stall the truth. "Why are you in Ferelden?"

"Oh ho, still trying to weasel your way out? Very well", Zevran took a deep breath and his gaze wandered somewhere at the door. "Like I told you, those two Wardens I fought were the ones I was after. It was pretty...hard, after you had left. I was alone at the Dusk. My moping must have annoyed the ladies. Rude behavior got a whole new aspect from me."

When Laryll didn't say anything, Zevran continued. "It didn't take long for my life to take a complete turn. I was bought into the Antivan Crows, to become an assassin."

"You're a what?" Laryll cried out.

"An assassin", the elf sighed, his hands crossed and head lowered as he was sitting on Laryll's bed. He was about to explain about the organization, but closed his mouth when he met Laryll's wide eyes.

_That's why the letters stopped_, Laryll tried to process what she had heard. There was an assassin order in Antiva? Of course it was not surprising that she didn't know about it because she had been so young when Cyrion had adopted the girl. She was dying to hear more about these Crows but then she let out a small gasp and stared at Zevran.

"Bought?" she frowned.

"Yes, for a good price, in fact", Zevran smirked. "Now before you rage or anything, let me say that it hasn't been so bad. I'm rather good at it I'm told."

Laryll tore her eyes away from her friends joking face. "Good at killing people, huh?" Immediately she regretted saying that. She had no right to judge him. Her eyes were pressed tightly shut as she fought back the tears which could not be allowed to flow. Her emotions were tangled in an overhand knot, and her heart was racing in the chest.

A hand was placed on her shoulder, making her curved eyelashes rise. A pair of Antivan elf eyes looked at her warmly, asking if she were alright. Laryll wiped her itchy nose with her palm and nodded at her friend. No words were spoken for a while and she preferred that.

"I'm sorry", Laryll finally brought herself to say. "I feel like an idiot."

"And an idiot you are for apologizing", Zevran stated. "I'm completely okay with being part of the Crows and I'm sorry if it pains you. That was never my intention."

"Then what was your intention?"

That was unexpected and it made Zevran blink several times. He was the type of person who wasn't easily embarrassed or shaken and he hadn't been that often afraid. Until now. It had already been too much to witness Laryll almost dying, but now he felt a new kind of fear. To share his past with the elf in front of him would mean he'd have to tell everything. There wouldn't be an issue if it were someone else, like another Crow, but now a hint of horror crept through Zevran's spine. Regardless, he had promised to open up in order to get Laryll to do the same. And for her, he would do it.

"One of my missions went wrong. Totally wrong", the assassin's pained voice was difficult to hear. "Because of my mistake, I volunteered to take the task of hunting down the two Grey Wardens."

"Why would assassins be sent after them? What did they do?" as if Laryll wasn't confused enough, an important question popped in her mind. "What is a Grey Warden?"

"Whoa, slow down, my friend" Zevran laughed, making a gesture of sweeping sweat from his forehead. "You'll have to ask them, I was just paid for the job. I'm pretty sure you'll get the chance once you've gathered your strength. If the Blight isn't going anywhere, so won't the Wardens."

The dumbfounded look on Laryll's face said more than a hundred words could express. "You...didn't know?" the assassin wasn't mocking, but concerned. "By the Antivan leather, what kind of closed city is this Denerim anyway?"

_It's not the city which is closed, it's the elves who are not told of such things_, almost slipped from Laryll's rosy lips. The alienage wasn't pretty and for the first time Laryll was happy that returning there was impossible. It meant she wouldn't have to show her new home to Zevran, how dirty and gloomy it was. She still hoped the old wounds wouldn't have to be dug up, that Zevran wouldn't ask her to.

It hurt to lie, but Laryll was not ready to talk. "I'm...kinda tired", she muttered. "Forgive me, but would you mind if I caught some more sleep?"

"You're just taking a step back from the path of truth, my dear", Zevran pointed his finger at the female.

Suddenly, as fast as lightning, Laryll jerked herself close to her friend and grabbed his hand. "I do NOT want to talk about it! I can't, Zev! I can't!" The strands of hair which landed on her face looked like deep, bleeding cuts. She was trembling and panting. The strength was quickly drained from her fingers and her hand slumped on her lap. Curses were spat when the pain stung her whole body. She winced and the fingers from her other hand were about to cave her moistening eyes out. The elf repeated the words 'idiot' and 'sorry' over and over again.

Without a second thought Zevran embraced Laryll and stroked the back of her head. The wounded elf chewed her lip because she thought it would eventually stop the slow stream of salty liquid coming from her eyes. Her arms hung beside her. Hugging back would only worsen the crying. She needed to be strong.

"What happened to you, _mi bella preciosa_?" agonized Zevran.

He sat there, comforting Laryll and humming into her ear. His own hesitation to talk about the past seemed minor compared to Laryll's suffering. Whatever had caused the shaky elf in his arms to break in front of him, the assassin would do everything in his power to make Laryll feel better. To make her feel herself again.

While Zevran was hugging her, Laryll fell asleep. Carefully he tucked her in bed and wiped the tear marks from her face before leaving her to rest in peace.

0-0-0-0-0

The tavern of Redcliffe was quite empty. It wasn't evening yet, so the denizens had yet to find their way next to the waiting pints. The sun was up, but some clouds were threatening to hide it. Zevran approved the warm weather while drinking but couldn't enjoy the moment for long due to the two Grey Wardens and their companions entering the inn.

"I knew I could find you from here", the woman with a big two-handed sword hanging on her back smiled. She gestured at the chair beside Zevran's table. "May I?"

"By all means", the elf signaled the Warden to sit down. He was going to ask for the waitress, but the female warrior was quicker and ordered drinks for her and her party.

He took a glimpse at the Grey Warden. Her straight blond hair was tied with a piece of cloth into a ponytail but some free strands tried to cover her ears. The heavy scale mail covered her rather slim figure. Zevran had no idea where did the strength to wield the big sword come from.

The other Warden was a male, also equipped with some heavy armor but he had a sword and a shield strapped to his back. The front of his short blond hair formed some kind of...ramp, was the only word Zevran could use to describe it. Beside him was the mage the assassin had seen to change into an animal. Her black clothes covered next to nothing of her body, and she wasn't being that secretive of her identity, having a magical staff and all.

And then there was, of course, the mabari which was being fed by the female Warden. Stray dogs were really common in Antiva, but none of them were war hounds. The corners of Zevran's mouth rose from amusement when he thought what a war cat would look like.

"How's your friend?" the Warden with a sweeter voice asked and took a sip of the beer the waitress had brought.

Zevran shook himself from his thoughts. "Considering the condition she was in when we carried her here, not so bad." He left his drink alone, stood up and bowed, his hand over his heart. "I am in eternal debt and can't thank you enough, for saving her and sparing my life. If it is not too much asked, may I know at least your name?"

"I am Iselda Cousland", the Warden introduced herself. "This is Alistair, who's been with me since I became a Warden. And she is Morrigan", she nodded at the mage.

"Oh go ahead and reveal our names and leave out the one who eats furballs", Morrigan glared at Iselda.

"The mabari is called Dog", the Warden's speech was followed by the mabari's happy bark.

One of Zevran's eyebrows lifted. He tried looking at the male warrior.

"Don't ask", Alistair sighed. "She told me she wanted a simple name."

Iselda's gaze ordered the other Warden to shut up. "If I remember correctly, you told me you are an assassin from Antiva. Crows, was it?"

"Exactly so", Zevran grinned.

After Laryll had interrupted his fight and collapsed, he had given the information of his mission to kill the Wardens to Iselda. About Loghain, the man who betrayed his king, wishing them dead. Almost on his knees he had asked for her to stop the fight and let him get Laryll help. To Zevran's surprise Iselda had told her companions they would help the two elves get to the village of Redcliffe which was near. Everyone had been mute during the trip and the female Warden had promised to wait at the village to make sure Laryll would recover.

"A situation has emerged", Iselda continued. "I came here to ask for your aid."

"I was wondering what brings you here, my lady", the Antivan sat back on the bench and grabbed his pint.

"Please, you don't have to treat me like a noble. The entire Cousland family, my family, is dead. Except for my missing brother, but I'm rather pessimistic."

"Ah, I knew my hunch was right. You could tell one being nobility from the manner of her speech. But, as you wish, Warden. Please accept my condolences and do tell what's going on."

The daughter from Cousland family coughed to clear her voice. "This village has been attacked repeatedly. Groups of undead creatures have surged from the Redcliffe Castle during the nights. For some reason there has been a pause since we entered the village, but the people are quite sure this village will soon be under a new siege. A man named Teagan from the Chantry has requested for our help."

Just when Laryll's current wounds were healing, now there were zombies attacking, too? It didn't take long for Zevran to answer. "Of course I'll help. It's a fine way to start repaying you, no?"

The conversation was halted when an elf came downstairs. The other few customers paid no attention but Zevran almost knocked his drink over when he rushed to the elf whose hand was gripping the railing to support herself.

"Laryll, you shouldn't be wandering around, your fever might come back again", Zevran said anxiously and touched Laryll's forehead, comparing its heat to his.

The elf took her friend's hand. "I'm fine, really. If I slept anymore than I already have, I would get trapped in the Fade. Besides, I'm so hungry I could eat all the food in Ferelden."

Still a bit pale face gave a smile at Zevran. Laryll had honed her skill of not showing her weaknesses to be good. But Zevran's eyes were not fooled. He saw how Laryll's finger was twitching. Iselda had given the assassin some clothes for his friend to wear, and Laryll had chosen the most covering shirt in order to hide her bound injuries. Her breathing was arduous and the light in her purple eyes was dim.

"You get to eat and catch some fresh air, but after that you'll go back to your bed", Zevran demanded. "I won't take a negative response."

An agreeing grin was a good enough answer for Zevran. He turned to Iselda. "Shall we go meet this Teagan person then? After my friend here has emptied the food supplies of this tavern, that is."

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll could not believe that she was willingly walking with three humans, the race she so much despised. These Wardens and the spell caster had helped her, but what if Zevran hadn't been there? Would they still have helped, without another elf begging them to do so? Every encounter she's had with humans has been tragic. Her adoptive mother slain by _shems_, The Bann from Denerim, these people almost killing Zevran. Other than the fact the Wardens helped her, she couldn't think of any other reason to trust them.

The village was quiet, which hinted of looming fear. The sun had been blocked by gray lumps of clouds and delicate wind blew from lake Calenhad. Laryll had to constantly assure the Antivan beside her that she was okay and was able to walk by herself. The village was small and the Chantry was near their tavern. On their way Laryll noted some people preparing for a battle. Whetstones were doing their jobs and armors were fastened. Even though they were all humans, Laryll couldn't help feeling pity towards them. Not all of them would come back alive if there was going to be an attack.

"Ah, here we are", Alistair pointed at the double doors which led into the Chantry. "Bann Teagan should be waiting for us inside."

_It's just a title_, Laryll was doing her best at convincing herself. _Not all the banns are like Vaughan, right?_

Morrigan snorted and frowned at Zevran. "Is your friend always this angsty or is it just because of, I don't know, the weather?"

Before the assassin could snap back, Iselda sighed. "Leave her be, Morrigan. She's been through a lot."

"I'm just wondering, why are we dragging such a fragile girl with us when it is obvious she's in no fighting shape?"

The hard heels of Laryll's boots slammed against the steps to the Chantry when she marched forward. She placed both of her hands on the doors and pushed them wide open. The pain from the arrow wound on her chest just gave her more power and she almost dashed inside. The look Zevran gave to Morrigan was both sneering and angry and he hurried to Laryll.

"Nice to see that I'm not the only one who cannot stand you", Alistair crooned and quickly followed the two elves in order to avoid the mage's evil glare.

Iselda sighed again and closed the doors behind her.

The Chantry wasn't that crowded, but there were several soldiers and injured villagers. Laryll could hear someone chanting and saw a couple of frightened children. She had heard Iselda mentioning the undead. There hadn't been an opportunity for her to meet one, and she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to. The people were on the verge of giving up and the black circles around their eyes indicated to sleepless nights.

The crimson hair swayed when Laryll locked her eyes on the brown-haired man standing at the end of the hall. "Is it him?" she asked Iselda, not turning her head.

The Warden nodded and took the lead.

The man Laryll had noticed raised his hand to greet the party. "You're back", his relieved voice said. "And I see a few new faces among you."

When Laryll remained silent, Zevran took the liberty of introducing themselves. "My name is Zevran Arainai and my friend here is Laryll Tabris. I was told you require some assistance in the matter of the undead invading the village, yes?"

"You are well informed", the man praised. "I am Teagan Guerrin, bann of Rainesfere."

"Arl Eamon of Redcliffe is his older brother", Alistair whispered over his shoulder to Zevran and Laryll.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Iselda hastened. "What is the situation?"

Teagan paced, his gaze adventuring on the floor. "It's been too long since the last assault. I think the walking dead are planning to attack us in even greater number than before." He looked directly at Iselda. "Please, help me protect the village. Once this place is secured, I'll be able to help you find a solution regarding my ill brother."

"The Arl is ill?" Laryll's attention was caught.

"Yes, very ill. The knights from Redcliffe are on a quest to find cure, but we're running out of time. Forgive me, but could we first concentrate on defending the village before anything else? There's a lot to be done before the nightfall."

It was again Alistair's whisper which promised Laryll to explain things later. She accepted that and let Iselda do the talking. She was still tired, but there was no way she would pass out in front of so many humans.

They would have to speak to the Mayor named Murdock and Ser Perth, one of the knights from the castle. The plan was to prevent the undead from getting near the denizens. Laryll was pleased when Zevran recommended to use traps in order to stop the enemies at the entry of the village. One of the knights remembered of seeing some oil barrels in an abandoned store and left to get them. Morrigan just looked like she didn't want anything to do with this attempt, and at least Laryll didn't expect the mage to fight for these humans. The first impression of Morrigan hadn't been quite nice, after all.

Laryll looked around her when she heard weak crying and glanced back at the bann. "Some children have already lost one or both of their parents. Do you have a family here?"

Teagan blushed a little. "Oh, I... I'm not married, in fact. Not that I didn't want to in case of meeting such a lovely woman like yourself. I'm sure you have been luckier than I have."

The elf's eyes widened and as a reflex her hand searched for the missing belt pouch where she had kept Nelaros' ring. It held too many painful memories, but she hadn't found the courage to toss it away. She hadn't agreed on getting married, but it would dishonor Nelaros if the ring was to be disposed of.

Gritting her teeth, Laryll stepped in front of Teagan and pierced him with her leer. "Keep your tongue chained or else I will rip it out, _shem_", her words came out without thinking of consequences. When seeing Teagan's stunned look, Laryll stirred and her lips tried to form an apology. Because she couldn't say anything, she ran away.

"Laryll!" Zevran shouted after the elf, but his calling wasn't heard. He didn't bother to excuse himself, but chased after Laryll, who had yanked the Chantry door open and left the building.

Iselda exchanged gazes with Alistair who only shrugged. She started to apologize on behalf of Laryll, but the Bann assured no harm had been done.

"Now I approve more our little elven girl", Morrigan chuckled.

Laryll was forced to stop when she huffed hard and felt dizzy. Her back curled when she leaned against her knees, having trouble at standing. The head coated with the red color couldn't stop shaking from left to right.

She inhaled sharply when a hand landed on her back. "I'm okay", she guessed it was Zevran who had followed her. The dizziness became worse when Laryll straightened her back too suddenly.

The assassin rotated his friend to face him. "I've seen elves who hate humans so much they kill them just for fun. And if I'm not mistaken, you did not loathe them like this the last time I was with you." He revealed Laryll's pointy ear by wiping some of her hair behind it.

With a quick slap Zevran's hand was removed off Laryll's face. "That was before that monster stole my first kis-!" Laryll shut her mouth tight and covered it with her palm. Her tongue got bitten hard to keep the tears hidden. _Why have I become this pathetic?_ She begged her mind to tell her.

"Laryll...", the Antivan began.

"Don't", the elf looked away. "Just, don't. This is not me. I don't want you to see me like this. Weak. Dirty. Ruined." She twirled around. "I...should go back to tavern. I think the air here just messed my head. I'm sorry, Zev."

Laryll glimpsed the sorrowful sky and walked away. She knew what needed to be done: her body had to recover quickly so that she could wield her daggers again. A bloody fight would be able to clear her mind.

* * *

**Notes: _mi bella preciosa = my precious beauty _(I don't speak Spanish, so if this is incorrect, please forgive me.)**

**The age difference between Laryll and Zevran is over two years. I'm just clarifying this, thank you _csorciere_! :)**

**It may seem that Laryll is weak and useless, but please be patient, it hasn't been long since she was reunited with her friend and she took a hell of a beating. She'll get into the action soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello to you all and thank you for joining this adventure! (Read: Thanks for reading/reviewing/following/faving!)**

**Writing this has become rather big part of my daily life, so I hope the studies won't slow me down too much. I'm pretty sure they won't, and before the school starts (which is in about two weeks), I'm spending more time with this.**

**So anyway, listen to some good music, sit down and enjoy. :)**

Zevran waited impatiently. Alistair and Morrigan, along with the mabari, had gone to discuss the battle plans with the mayor. The female Warden had promised to go and take a look on how Laryll was doing. The elf had locked herself in her rented room, stating that she wasn't feeling well and wanted to be left alone. The assassin of course didn't buy that and had asked for Iselda to try and make her talk at least a little. He was quite sure his presence wouldn't help.

The Antivan's brows raised when the Warden was shuffling towards him. He could already see it on the woman's face: the trip hadn't been profitable.

Iselda shook her head. "I'm sorry, but she didn't even open the door", her disappointed voice sighed. "Give her some time, that's all I can say."

"How did you do it?" Zevran suddenly inquired.

"Did what?"

"You mentioned before that your entire family, may they rest in peace, was murdered. Forgive me if I sound like I wanted to use you, but I thought that if you coped something like that, surely Laryll would have listened to you."

A rather mocking snort came from Iselda. "Maybe you should read a book or two about women. We are not that simple."

"You hurt me, dear Warden", Zevran bemoaned and his smile destroyed the disguise of looking offended.

Sighing again, the Warden laid her armored hand on the assassin's shoulder. "It is not my company she wishes for. You have a duty as her friend. Do not doubt yourself." She winked and headed to the Chantry, leaving Zevran wordless.

Laryll watched from closed window as her Antivan friend followed Iselda. This was so childish, hiding and hoping he wouldn't turn around. The chair she sat on creaked when she lifted her legs and hug them, the blanket wrapped around her tightening. For so long she had longed for meeting Zevran again but not like this. Not when her body carried so many physical and mental wounds. She knew her friend would be able to heal her but injuries can't be cured if you don't show them.

"You are so pitiful to look at, little girl", said a chirping voice in the room.

Laryll's heart jumped in her throat and when she tumbled up her chair got knocked over. Her hand searched for the missing dagger which usually was strapped on her back along with her other blade. After she tossed her hair in order to see the intruder, her memory started to work again. There were numerous different faces recorded in her head, but those golden eyes staring at her were not easy to forget.

"You... You were with the other humans. Mori... Morrigan, was it?" Laryll stuttered and relaxed her arm a bit.

"Indeed", the witch smirked.

"How did you get in?"

"I flew", Morrigan blurted.

Question marks hovered above Laryll's head before she recalled how Zevran had listed these new humans. This rude, half naked woman had to be the mage. There was a flickering image in her mind of a spell caster who had changed her shape during the fight against Zevran. She had no idea such magic existed.

Purple eyes trailed Morrigan as she pranced towards the fireplace and crossed her arms, covering her too exposed breasts. "You left the bann quite shocked. 'Twas rather amusing act you performed, I'll give you that. But your outbursts and sulking won't help us, they'll only be a hindrance." The witch met Laryll's gaze. "This Blight needs to be stopped, and if you can't get a grip of yourself, then I suggest you find the closest hole and crawl into it. Your elven friend should accompany you, 'cause the concerned look on his face annoys me."

Grave silence finished Morrigan's words. Laryll couldn't tell if the mage was insulting or encouraging her. But she knew the human was right. This weakness was not part of her, it was only a symptom, and like a symptom of an illness, it could be get rid off. Although the elf had learned about the Blight only recently, she knew things were going to be bad. Other Blights had not been kind on Ferelden, so why would this one be any different?

She had no time to say thanks or yell at Morrigan as the mage was already at the door, gesturing at it. "You've done remarkable job at keeping 'normal' people away and it would be a shame if I had to damage your piece of art."

More slowly than she had intended, Laryll walked to the human. Her quick fingers opened the lock she had put on the door because she didn't trust the original ones in the tavern. Chain chinked when it hit the floor and was swept out of the way with Laryll's foot. Morrigan's acknowledgment had a scorning tone with it and when she pointed out Laryll's need for a bath, the elf just slammed the door shut behind Morrigan and locked it again.

After making sure the other, smaller window in her room was closed so that no-one wouldn't dare to squeeze through it, Laryll crumpled on the unmade bed and buried her face in her palms. No tears were shed to emphasize the miserable state she was in. It surprised her to realize how much she actually wanted Zevran to be here, telling her it was going to be okay.

0-0-0-0-0

The night was emerging and the creeping shadows were being kept away by lit torches around the village. Women and children stayed out of sight at their homes, praying for the safe return of their husbands. Orphans whimpered in the Chantry, unaware of what was going to happen. Some men had gathered around a bonfire near the holy house and all of them held their weapons close.

Thanks to Iselda's persuasion, the townspeople had proper swords, bows and armors which the village smith Owen had repaired for everyone. Alistair had taken care of preparing Ser Perth's knights for the upcoming battle. Bann Teagan remained inside the Chantry, ready to engage any enemies who could get past the defenses into the building. Even Dog was doing its part. Its fearlessness and strength raised the militia's morale. If a mabari could do this, so could they.

Near the village entrance stood the Warden's party. They were to prevent the undead from advancing and Zevran was setting a few traps to help at that. If the barrels of oil lit in fire were not enough to stop the enemies, some small pools of acid ought to do the trick. Any surviving walking dead would get slain once again by blades or spells. Or teeth and claws.

The assassin couldn't help but keep glimpsing at the tavern. He hadn't seen Laryll since the incident with Teagan. Even though Iselda had told him not to be skeptical about himself, Zevran hadn't heeded her advice. The time with the Crows had made him think he didn't possess the right words for Laryll anymore. That she would only get more hurt because of him.

"They are coming!" someone shouted, pulling Zevran back from his thoughts.

Iselda waved at the Antivan. "Are the traps ready?"

Zevran backed off and joined the others. He picked an item which looked like a bomb from his pocked. "With this they are", he hummed. "I would take a couple of steps back if I were you."

The archers readied their weapons and Iselda grabbed the handle of her blade firmly. The undead had no light with them, but the horde was not hard to spot. The army swarmed forward, letting out gurgling sounds of death. Teagan had been right. This attack was going to be the toughest one yet.

But the force didn't faze Zevran. He narrowed his eyes when the creatures ran at them, their swords slicing the air. As a group was about to pass the spread oil, Zevran threw the bomb in his hand. Once the item touched the ground with an impact, it exploded in flames which licked the substance sensitive to such element, creating a firestorm. If dead could feel pain, those deep cries everyone heard would definitely be because of anguish.

Some enemies charged from the burning hell, only to trigger the acid traps below them. The rotten meat and bones began to dissolve from their bodies, leaving a terrible smell after they collapsed. Some villagers gagged from the sight and their noses wrinkled.

"Don't look away now, here they come!" Iselda's bellow snapped the men to resume their positions. She lifted her sword and gave a nod to Alistair, who raised his shield. The Warden saw how electricity crackled from Morrigan's fingertips. A grin on the assassin's face was enough to convince Iselda that their new companion's skills were sufficient.

Burning and melting walking horrors stumbled forward, desperate at seeing human blood before dying, but their wishes were pointless. The two Wardens worked greatly together. Alistair bashed the enemies with his shield and Iselda finished them with powerful hits. Dog was keeping away those who dared to sneak upon its master. The undead who were still trying to escape from the fire didn't have a chance against Morrigan's lightning bolts and Zevran's daggers found their home in the enemies necks and backs. There was hardly anything left for the village militia which, in their opinion, was a good thing.

The fire was starting to go out, revealing smoking corpses. With a stomp, Zevran put an end to the last undead that was crawling on the ground, its legs missing because of the acid. He wiped the boot on grass and placed his daggers in their scabbards. The others followed his example and put their weapons away.

"Something's wrong", Iselda frowned and looked to the distance. "This can't be all of them."

"Not every fight's going to be as massive as in Ostagar", Alistair's voice had a hint of grief in it.

"Our Warden is right, I'm afraid", said the witch behind them. "A large part of the horde must have departed with this group and planning to attack from somewhere else. They used their numbers to deceive our eyes."

"And exactly why are you so calm about that?" Alistair glared at Morrigan, who was in no hurry to answer.

The party received a reply to their wondering when a heavy-armored denizen was rushing at them, calling the Wardens. "H-help! They... They are... They are almost at the Chantry!" he couldn't decide whether to speak or catch his breath.

"Lead the way, we must move!" growled Iselda and told the rest to speed up.

The villager ran ahead of them, passing the windmill and being careful not to trip while running down the hill. His legs screamed for rest, but it was either muscle pain or death, and he chose the first option. The mabari sprinting next to him made him jealous of not having four legs to run with. The fact that the night was still early wasn't making him or anyone feel better. This battle couldn't be won in just a few hours.

When the group had crossed the small bridge, Zevran' eyes widened from terror. The door of the tavern had been crushed and many undead creatures were dashing inside. Some were climbing on the walls and entering from open windows. Their rasping sounds were accompanied by shrieks.

Zevran clenched his fists hard. "Forgive me, dear Warden, but I must abandon your ship for a while." He didn't wait for Iselda's approval. His legs were already taking him to the tavern and he didn't even remember when the daggers had appeared in his hands.

There wasn't anything to do to stop Zevran. Alistair's open mouth was going to protest, but Iselda poked him with her elbow and ordered him to move his ass, Dog giving an agreeing bark.

0-0-0-0-0

Right after the night had fallen, Laryll had equipped herself with her daggers and left the small prison she had created. Downstairs she had met the barkeeper and the waitress named Bella who had bright red hair like hers, it was just a lot shorter. Some women and children were in the tavern to hide, but not too many. Laryll couldn't offer her help to Iselda due to her injuries and fever, but she could at least protect these humans around her in case of an enemy or two straying from the other undead.

The waitress had immediately met Laryll when she had arrived. "Miss, are you alright? You shouldn't wander around, you still aren't fully healed", Bella worried.

"Thank you", Laryll's few words were dry. "Sorry, but could I get some water?"

The red-head apologized for not noticing the elf's thirst and went to pour a glass of cold drink. Some drops got spilled on the floor because the glass was too full. Laryll laughed a little and assured Bella this was not an emergency.

While Laryll was enjoying the water, Bella continued to stare at her. "I beg your pardon, I don't mean to be intrusive or anything. But I promised your friend I would look after you, and I don't break my promises."

_Sounds very much like Zev_, Laryll snorted to herself.

The elf smiled. "I appreciate what you've done for me, Bel-"

The sentence was left unfinished when Laryll grasped the waitress' dress and pulled the human down with her. A rusty arrow flew above them and hit a jar on a wooden shelf. The barkeeper gasped and hid under the counter. The ruckus caused the younger children cry and their mothers did everything in order to quiet them. But it was too late. The undead knew there were potential targets in the tavern and were about to billow inside.

"Stay down and when the opportunity comes, crawl to the children and take them away from here", Laryll commanded shivering Bella. The elf winced all of a sudden. This scene reminded her of being captured by Vaughan and his men. A terrified red-haired woman in front of her, eyes begging for mercy and Laryll throwing herself to condors to save the others.

She shook her head furiously and stood up. It wasn't just a couple of creatures, there were from ten to twenty of them. Cursing silently Laryll snatched her weapons from her back and sprinted to the broken door. The undead needed to be stopped at the entrance so there wouldn't be too much space for all of them to attack her at once.

One enemy who had managed to come inside fell from one cut of Laryll's blade. The kill made Laryll think that maybe these undead weren't that strong and the idea pumped more adrenaline into her body. She roared and swung the daggers, letting their dance to decorate the creatures' unholy figures. Three more lay dead, but then there was a cry for help somewhere behind Laryll. The walking corpses had climbed in from an open window near the hiding villagers.

She had to tumble away from her current fight. She ducked and rolled backwards. One of the monsters was lucky enough to wound her shin, but it didn't bother the elf. Before an undead could reach the women who were covering their kids, Laryll threw one of her daggers. It gleamed as it darted into the target's mouth. Obviously the other mindless monsters weren't startled and kept the pressure on.

It felt like one of her limbs had been cut off without both of Laryll's daggers. Nevertheless, the elf jumped between the innocents and the undead. There was pretty high chance of getting flanked now that the enemies from the front door could get in, but she didn't care. Humans or not, the people here would die if she didn't protect them. Or at least try to.

Hissing sounds came from the entry and Laryll took a glimpse at what had happened. Blood flew in the air and colored the walls as the undead were falling one at a time. Even the ones in front of Laryll had stopped to look at their kin's fate. Or it could be they had stopped to look at the elf who was hacking his way through.

"Laryll, are you there?!" Zevran's cry roamed through the tavern. The time of feeling relieved when seeing his friend on her feet was cut short as an undead swung his sword at Laryll.

Not getting distracted by Zevran, Laryll raised her dagger to take the hit. The blade shuddered from the impact and Laryll kicked her opponent's knee. The creature dropped and once its head was lower, the red-headed elf cut it. Murky blood splashed on her face and she spat in disgust.

"Bella, now's your chance!" Laryll shouted over her shoulder to the waitress on the floor. "If you're done there, come give me a hand, Zev!"

There was no need to tell Zevran twice. The assassin leaped to aid Laryll, circling their next enemy. His comrade kept the monster focused on her so that he could dig his dagger into its neck. The plan worked perfectly and the invaders numbers grew low. Bella managed to get to the children and women and escorted them out of the tavern. The building next door hadn't been raided, so she figured it could work as a new hiding place until these monsters had been taken out.

With Zevran's help, the undead were no match against the two elves. Even the barkeeper took a peek at the scene when the sounds of battle were turning down. Of course his first thought was how he was going to repair the damage, but then he realized that he was alive, and that was an achievement itself.

It took a while, but in the end only the elves and the barkeeper were left. Laryll wrenched her other dagger from the mouth of the undead where it had been aimed at. She sighed and listened. The fight wasn't over. Battle cries and gurgling of the undead came from the location of the Chantry.

Laryll was going to exit the tavern, but she was stopped by Zevran gripping her arm. "Where do you think you're going, my friend?" the Antivan demanded, not blinking when giving a firm leer at the elf.

"Those Wardens still need help", Laryll said and didn't struggle free. "Can't you hear that? This tavern brawl was just a minor attack. A lot more of these monsters are about to maim the villagers at the Chantry."

Zevran nodded at Laryll's leg. "You're hurt."

"What? Oh", Laryll ignored the cut, "it's just a scratch."

The blood running along her shin told Zevran otherwise. He let out an anxious groan and took his dagger. Without the barkeeper's permission he cut a piece of cloth from one of the curtains and made sure it was clean. Then he knelt beside Laryll and dressed her wound.

"Really Zev, it's fine- Ow!" Laryll grimaced from pain when Zevran tied the knot.

The assassin lifted himself and his gaze found Laryll's purple orbs. "You have better stop being so stubborn because, as much as I hate to admit it, you are scaring me." His hand brushed the crimson hair and gently he pulled Laryll's head to touch his forehead. "Being able to sacrifice oneself doesn't make you strong. It only makes you dead and I won't allow that. Never."

_Please think that the heat on my forehead comes from the fever, not blushing_, Laryll prayed. She closed her eyes and almost forgot to breathe. Her finger twitched if you were very observant, you could see her jaw trembling.

"There...have been quite awful things I've gone through", Laryll placed her palm against the leather armor on Zevran's chest, loosening herself from the Antivan's hold. "And I know my silence only makes you worry more. It's selfish, but I ask for your patience. I... I'm not ready to talk about it yet. This weakness is driving me mad."

Zevran's reaction was not what Laryll had expected. The assassin's lips formed a smile which was kind and satisfied. He seemed to relax and he took Laryll's chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Well there's something good about your sealed lips, no? It means that as long as you don't tell me of your agony, you'll get to enjoy my company."

Continuing to change her facial expression from embarrassed to happy, Laryll sneered. "It seems that you still rely on the skills you've learned from the ladies at the Dusk."

"Why wouldn't I?" came a pure reply from laughing Zevran. "Now, I think we have some business to be taken care of, yes? I'm not about to leave you here alone and if you want to take part in the fight, you will stay near to me. Deal?"

Laryll nodded. The reality continued to astonish her. They were both adults. The usual wooing habit of Zevran's had begun to make her feel flattered whereas the Antivan's desire to protect her had made her feel weak and annoyed. She had seen her friend's guarding back so many times before as a child and welcomed the help, but nowadays her urge to prove her strength had taken the greater slice. Had she really changed this much?

"Zev", Laryll called her friend who had turned around, ready to leave the partly wrecked tavern.

"Yes, my favorite elf?" Zevran hummed.

"I'm glad that you are here. I missed you."

"Right back at you, _mi bella_."

0-0-0-0-0

When Laryll and Zevran came outside, they could see the battle near the Chantry. There had been a lot of undead remaining, but the Wardens' swords and Morrigan's magic had taken care of the most. Dog was tearing the jugular of one of the creatures and the mabari's fur was all but covered in blood. Laryll couldn't see any villagers lying on the ground, so she assumed there hadn't been many casualties.

Zevran reminded Laryll to stay close and they both bared their blades and charged. The fresh wound on Laryll's leg wasn't that serious and it didn't slow her down. Like the saying goes, there's safety in numbers. But for Laryll Zevran's presence was aegis enough. Because of him, the longing for home eased and the troubled thoughts occupying the red-haired elf's mind were swept into a dark hole. Her entire focus was on the enemies before her.

0-0-0-0-0

The night was almost over. The sun made a faint appearance in the horizon and the first rays of light touched Laryll's hair, causing it look like her head was on fire. She squinted her eyes and her vision became better when Zevran walked in front of her, concealing the sun behind his back.

Iselda's wide grin confirmed it. The fight had been won. Many corpses were scattered around the extinguished bonfire, but none of them were humans'. The Wardens had a few injuries, but fighters like them had no need to get concerned. The elves' plan of flanking and attacking from behind had spared them from cuts and bruises, though Zevran insisted Laryll to drink a healing potion due to her leg. She had already consumed such an amount of this liquid with sickening taste that it made her wonder if one could die from drinking too much of it.

After Laryll had acted like a good girl and gulped the potion, she saw Bann Teagan coming from the Chantry with Mother Hannah and several other humans. The women who recognized their husbands shed tears of joy and received warm embraces from their loved ones.

"You did it, the village is saved", Teagan's voice was stunned in a good way. "I... I can't thank you enough."

"We were happy to help", Iselda assured the bann, not paying attention to Morrigan's disagreeing gaze.

"You are too kind. I can at least return the favor by helping you to get into the Castle. You should rest well before going. Who knows what kind of evil lurks there in addition to these undead." Teagan took a brief look at the village. "There's going to be a lot of repairing, but I will help these people. It seems the tavern got some beating, so perhaps it would be best if you went to the Chantry. Your injuries could be treated there as well."

The female Warden bowed and turned to Laryll. The elf was not proud of how she had treated Teagan and lowered her head.

"I'm...sorry for what I said earlier", she mumbled, trying not to look at the human.

Teagan let out a small laugh. "Please, I can't sleep peacefully if you're still thinking about that." He patted Laryll's shoulder. "Raise your head, let us not ruin our future because of this. Forgive me if I have offended you."

Laryll was going to say something, but Teagan had already walked away to join Ser Perth whose knights were gathering the monsters' bodies in order to burn them. She glanced at her elven friend, but Zevran only shrugged. The look on his face though recommended Laryll to be content with the outcome.

Alistair scratched his blond hair. "Well, you heard the man. I suggest we get rid of these black circles around our eyes and get ourselves cleaned up."

"Afraid that you won't make an impression at the Castle?" Iselda chuckled.

"Oh I'm sure all this slimy blood would impress everyone, including the dogs who raised me. Even the women would kneel at the sight of me, but only after a lot of screaming."

"I'm not screaming, am I?"

"Yes, well, guess that makes you just one of the guys, right?" Alistair recalled a line Iselda had used during their first encounter.

He was quite pleased with his victory when his fellow Warden had nothing but a glare to shoot back at him.

* * *

**Notes: _Jaden Anderson_, some of your questions are probably going to be answered in the next chapter or the chapter after that. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for R/R/F/F, hugs for everyone!**

**It is quite difficult to cut the dialogue from the game, because there's so much of it. And because I don't use the original text. But my Warden was more like 'come on let's go' type than 'could you give me the details' type. Still, I'll keep doing my best at describing the quests.**

**Now I'll just shut up and let you enjoy. :)**

Bella, the waitress from the tavern, had entered the Chantry with the group of humans she had escaped with. Her face was filled with relief when she noticed Laryll, who was sitting on a chair to get the bandages on her leg changed. The elf smiled back at Bella and waved her to come closer.

"I'm so glad that you are alive", the red-haired waitress sighed, hand over her heart.

Laryll nodded. "You protected those people, so you're as great a hero as I am."

A laugh was inevitable from Bella. "Yes, now I only need a sword and an armor and I'm ready to battle against the Blight itself, right?"

As she was about to make her move to leave to help the others, Zevran who had been treating Laryll's injury rose up and took Bella's hand. "You have done a huge favor for me, my dear, and not even all the roses in the world would be a sufficient reward for you." He placed a tiny kiss on the waitress' palm.

The color on Bella's cheeks began to resemble her hair, so she turned her head in order to hide her blushing. Once her hand was relieved she stuttered the words 'excuse me' and scurried away. Some women teased her when seeing the look on her face and there was lots of giggling.

"Is there a darkspawn on my head, or why are you glaring me so?" the assassin asked from Laryll, whose eyes were fluttering and glued on him.

"It's nothing", Laryll shrugged and abandoned her seat. This behavior her friend had was normal and she had accepted it, like a grown-up should. But there was a voice in her head which didn't agree with her. Letting it overpower her would be a mistake, so Laryll swallowed hard and braced herself.

"I'm going to have a chat with Iselda, if you don't mind", the elf stated, meeting Zevran's gaze.

"Do you want company?" the Antivan didn't have his usual smirk.

_Yes, I'd love that_, the voice in Laryll's mind sung. "No, I'd like to go alone", was what Laryll's mouth said. She was quite sure Zevran looked disappointed, but she had no explaining words for him. Her chest hurt from the agonizing pressure she felt, and as long as the pile of secrets and emotions grew inside her, there would be no cure.

When Zevran shifted, Laryll thanked him and headed towards the end of the hall. She took a glance at the people inside the Chantry. Bella was hugging a crying woman, who had obviously lost someone close to her because of the undead attack. A band of children were getting soup and bread from a priestess and were instructed to eat at a large table in the dining room. Somehow this scenery reminded Laryll of the alienage in Denerim. It had taken an army of monsters to bring the humans in this state, whereas for the city elves this kind of misery would have been their daily life.

One of the Chantry's Sisters guided Laryll to Iselda's room. The elf didn't see Alistair or the mage and assumed they, or at least the male Warden, were out helping Teagan and the Redcliffe knights. It was actually a perfect time to talk with this Cousland. After climbing the rest of the stairs, Laryll couldn't see Zevran anywhere in the hall. She started to scan the area, but was interrupted by Iselda, who opened her door.

"Oh, Laryll", the Warden hummed and continued to dry her wet hair with a white towel. "Are you on tour or did you want to see me?"

"The latter", Laryll snorted, still trying to search for the assassin.

"Well do come in." Iselda gestured with her arm. She moved out of the way, her sky blue robes swaying from the breath of air. A couple of grapes found themselves in her mouth, getting rinsed by a sip of red wine.

The room was ordinary, perhaps a bit bigger than those in the tavern. Dog was lying on the carpet, its legs moving like it was having a dream of running. There was a bathtub which Iselda clearly had tested already. The bed looked comfy, although compared to the alienage every spot meant for sleeping looked alluring to Laryll. The food on the table awakened her appetite, but she just ordered her stomach to shut up. The elf hadn't seen this human out of her armor until now. Iselda was pretty, no argument about that. Even though she was a strong warrior with lot of muscles, her body was very feminine. The robes only highlighted her curves.

Iselda inhaled the air which had the smell of herbs she had used in the bath. "You know what?" her grinning face was turned at Laryll. "I think you should follow my example and step in." She pointed at the tub.

It took a while for Laryll to understand what the Warden had said. "Oh no, no", she shook her hands. "I mean, thanks for the offer, but I'm not-"

"You stink."

"I... Huh?"

"I can barely stand in the same room with you. Help me, I can't take it anymore." Iselda acted like she was about to pass out, groaning from imaginary pain.

"If humans convince others to please them like this, then I don't know if I want to know more about your culture", Laryll almost didn't get the joke, but her instincts told her not to gut the human, that these insults were not spoken to annoy her.

When Laryll agreed, Iselda gave her a happy smile and grabbed a clean towel for the elf from the closet. Before leaving to get more hot water she told her new companion to wait patiently and let her do everything. Along with buckets of water she brought a priestess, who emptied the bathtub with Iselda and filled it again. The Warden picked up a small pouch from her bed and took some petals with lovely scent from it. She sprinkled the herbs in the crystal-clear water and gave Laryll the permission to hop in. The priestess exited the room, Iselda's grateful words following her.

A thin screen separated the room and the bathing area, but because there were only women present, Laryll wasn't bothered. Quickly she undressed herself and put the loaned clothes on top of a chair near the screen. She grazed the water surface and felt her whole body tingling. With a great desire she stepped into the tub and let the warm liquid engulf her. Her feelings couldn't be described. The last bath she had had was right after escaping from Denerim. She had washed herself in a small river, and that cleansing had been the longest of her life. Even the tiniest bacteria from Vaughan needed to be destroyed. _Too bad water can't purify my head as well_, Laryll thought.

It had only been minutes, but Laryll felt relaxed already. Her toes curled and the long red hair floated, making the water ripple. Her hands formed a cup and she splashed some water on her face. Drops fell from her eyelashes when she blinked. There had been so much crying, so she was glad that this time the streams of liquid on her cheeks weren't salty and unwanted.

"Enjoying yourself?" Iselda broke the silence. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against her bed and polishing her sword.

"Yes... Thank you", muttered Laryll, with a hint of embarrassment in her voice.

It was quiet again, except for the occasional squelches coming from the bathtub and the silent squeaking caused by the cloth cleaning the Warden's blade. Laryll had forgotten that she had come to Iselda in order to ask her about the ongoing Blight. The bath had calmed her nerves to the point that she wasn't interested in the chaos around her anymore.

"Your body has quite a lot of scars", Iselda took the initiative again. "You must have fought a lot in your life."

"That's not the only reason", Laryll answered, and pondered for a moment was there point of continuing. "I live...lived in the elven alienage in Denerim. There are always bound to be some conflicts in that area, and unfortunately I meddled in some of them more that I should have. I have no regrets, but these marks keep reminding me of my weakness and foolishness."

"I have faced many battles myself, but most of my wounds haven't left scars, thanks to healing magic or potions."

Laryll took a deep breath and stared the ceiling. "There are no luxuries such as healing poultices among the city elves. The keeper knew some curative spells, but we were under constant surveillance of the Templars and city guards, so he had no chance at casting them."

Iselda let out a brief gasp of shock. When she was a child she had visited Denerim with her family, but didn't remember anyone even mentioning the elves. They hadn't stayed long, so maybe that was why she was left with the impression of the city being glorious and fair. The red-headed elf's story made her narrow her eyes and question Denerim's policy.

The Warden couldn't help but notice a certain thing about their discussion. "Why do you use the past tense?"

Laryll's shivering wasn't because of the water. Everyday she had thought of Cyrion, Shianni and Soris. How were they doing? Had the guards ruined the alienage in their search for her? And every time she retreated into her mind, she remembered that there was no turning back. Denerim was no longer her home.

But Iselda decided not to force Laryll, so she quickly changed the subject. "At least your new injuries won't probably leave scars. Your prince was very strict with the healer we luckily encountered in this village."

"He's not-" Laryll stopped herself and bit her tongue. Denying would only make it more awkward.

The elf couldn't see Iselda's wide, curious smile. "I hate gossiping, but if this will make you feel better, then it was worth it", she arose and put her weapon away. Then she slumped on the bed and threw her hands under her head. "For all those days when your life was being kept in this world by a mere string, that Antivan elf stayed with you. He left the room for only few minutes per day. When I asked why he went to such lengths for you, he said 'because she's _mi rub__í_, and I won't let Death steal this jewel from me'."

There were sounds of splashing when Laryll stood up and stepped out of the tub. The soft towel hanging from the screen got snatched and Laryll rubbed herself with it. Her wet hair got a bit curly due to the drying. She concealed her naked body and looked at Iselda.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but all ladies would get the same treatment from Zev", Laryll smirked and started to dress. It didn't feel good to admit the fact, but for some reason the owner of the voice in her head was dancing from joy.

"Now you're just underestimating your importance to him", Iselda sounded a little frustrated. "My eyes do not deceive me, and I hope that you too will soon get rid of the clouds obscuring your vision."

Clouds? What was the human talking about? Laryll's hands froze, gripping the hem of her shirt which she was putting on. The clenching of her fists made her hands tremble. When she thought of Zevran the first image was his grinning face, slipping adult themed lines and jokes and laughing at them. But after closing her eyes, worried and warm Antivan assassin appeared in front of her. Of course her injured state had made him concerned, they were still friends. But a possibility of deeper feelings? Laryll was aware of how precious Zevran was for her, but she was afraid that some words she'd like to say out loud wouldn't reach Zevran. Was it that fear which had created the clouds Iselda had mentioned?

Iselda sighed loudly and turned on her side. "Anyway, we should catch a few hours of sleep before entering the Castle. I reserved a room for you, it's right next to this one", the Warden jingled a key attached to a piece of metal in her fingers and tossed it to Laryll, who was able to grab it. "Don't worry about the guys, I made sure their chambers are nowhere near ours", she winked.

There was no need to inquire about Morrigan. The mage was an apostate, so there was no way she would rest in the Chantry. And she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

"Morrigan has most likely returned to our camp", Iselda released Laryll from her wonders. "There are still couple of people traveling with us who I haven't introduced yet. But that can wait." She made a playful gesture of shooing Laryll out of her room once the elf had dressed herself.

"Are you assuming that I will stay with this menagerie of yours?" the elf whined with a smile.

"You haven't left, so that tells me you haven't got any better future plans", Iselda commented.

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll wasn't used to sleeping in the morning, but fatigue had taken its toll and put the elf in peaceful rest for about five hours. When she woke up, there was a weird sensation. Like her body was preparing for a battle. Eyes wide she jerked herself up and glimpsed her room and was both relieved and almost scared to death when seeing Zevran, who was sitting on a chair near a wooden desk, sharpening Laryll's daggers.

After she managed to order her heart to slow down, Laryll gave a piercing glare to the assassin. "If you want me to live, then do not sneak in like that. It would be a disgrace to die from a heart attack."

"_Mi elfo favorita_, you look quite stunning", Zevran admired.

The question marks above Laryll's head vanished when she took a look at herself. She was wearing only her nightshirt and panties. Flush couldn't be erased from her face and she quickly sat on the bed and threw a blanket over her shoulders. The talk with Iselda had made her become uneasy when showing too much skin to Zevran.

But the Antivan only laughed at his friend's hustle. "My dear, I'm sorry to break the news, but I've already seen your unclothed body when taking care of your wounds."

Laryll's blushing only increased and she buried her head, the crimson strands of hair running wildly. She was unsure whether Zevran had complimented her due to his usual habit or because he really thought she was beautiful. The knots in her head formed new knots. Never before had it been necessary to seriously touch this area. With Nelaros she didn't have a choice in the matter. This was the first time she had to determine the level of her feelings and find out about Zevran's, too.

"If not to tease me, then exactly why are you in my room?" Laryll escaped her messed mind, keeping the blanket wrapped around her tightly.

Lifting his brow, Zevran showed Laryll her dagger he was holding. "You've been cruel to these blades. Just look at this evolving rust. I bet it must have taken many attempts to even scratch your foes."

"Watch your mouth!" growled Laryll, leaving Zevran quite wordless. "I...ah... Forgive me. Those daggers... I got them from my...my mother", Laryll had trouble at saying it.

"Me and my poisonous tongue", the Antivan shook his head, avoiding to look at the elf on the bed. Then his pupils rose. "Tell me, how is she?"

He watched how Laryll turned her head, wiping her itching nose with her twitching finger. There was no reply, only quiet. But the look written on Laryll's face was familiar to Zevran. The grief and longing were too visible and the signs of her nervousness acted as a confirmation.

The dagger was carefully set on the table and the assassin joined Laryll. "I'm so sorry", he sat beside the elf and hugged her, stroking the long red hair. "I'm sorry for not being there for you."

Laryll didn't resist the embrace, even though fighting the tears back became harder. Somehow she succeeded and circled her arms around Zevran. The thumping of her heart wasn't because of feeling sad. She felt how her sadness was being sucked out and was happy that the elf had been here when she had awoken.

One of the arms holding her went to Zevran's pocket and she watched surprised at the item which had materialized in her friend's hand. Then she chuckled of amusement. "I knew it. You are still meticulous about your hair."

"This, my friend, is for you", the assassin corrected and rotated once the hairbrush he held. "Of course I have my own, but every _bella_ should have one of these, no? Now sit on the floor, next to the bed."

The wondering frowning on Laryll's face wasn't satisfying answer to Zevran. He just waved his hand, rushing the red-head to do as he had said. Laryll gave up and placed one pillow under her when she sat on the hard floor. She had to part with the blanket, but took comfort from the fact that Zevran could only see her back.

The blond elf slightly pulled Laryll to lean against the bed and took a tuft of her hair. The hairbrush slowly began to take care of the tangles and Zevran was very careful not to hurt his patient. Laryll felt delightful chills through her skin. The familiar hands handling her hair had the same relaxing effect on her as the bath had had. Small tugs brought up the memories of all the other sweet things Zevran had done for her.

Once the Antivan was finished, Laryll's hair was straight and fluffy, just like before leaving the alienage. She was a bit jealous of the male, who clearly had better skills at brushing hair than she did. It was quite funny how one simple deed could make her feel so refreshed.

"What about _mam__á_?" Laryll asked, leaning and staying close to the warm, unarmored elf.

Zevran recognized the Antivan word Laryll had always used with his mother. "It breaks my soul to tell you this, but she's dead", he said in a low, hollow voice.

The salty water won. Laryll's purple eyes were filled with shock and moisture. The shining orbs met Zevran's who remained calm for her sake. The fate was too cruel. First Laryll had been almost broken when remembering her mother's death. Now Maker casts a truth like this at her?

"I know, what a depressing way to start the day", the Antivan sighed and wiped a tear from Laryll's cheek. "But her death was non-violent, I assure you."

"What happened?" Laryll wanted to know. Her request was quite selfish, given that she could not reveal that humans had killed her adoptive mother.

Zevran's palms pressed the mattress when his arms supported his weight. "She got ill only a few weeks after Cyrion had adopted you. There was no remedy. No mage was able to help her. Fortunately the illness didn't cause any pain and death claimed her pretty fast."

After a brief pause, the assassin went on. "Even though she was liked and respected, the head of the Dusk had arranged only a common burial for her. I didn't accept that, so when I was approached by a recruiter from the Crows, I took the deal and handed the money to the prostitutes who used it to give mother the funeral she deserved."

The crying ceased, because Laryll didn't want Zevran to think she was pitying him. He had always been strong for her and never flinched in order to keep her safe. As kids she had forced herself not to seem weak to impress her friend. Although her constant need to prove her bravery had lead to countless troubles. It had been the gentle Dalish woman who had told her son to protect her. Laryll recalled how bad she had felt when she had overheard that worried voice speaking to Zevran.

Her hand removed the marks of her tears and she gave a caring smile to the Antivan. "Because of you, I'm sure _mam__á_ had the most beautiful and valiant passing. I had hoped to meet her again, but I guess I'll have to wait for a bit longer."

With his finger under the elf's chin, Zevran tilted Laryll's head and grinned back. "Let us pray she won't be in hurry to invite you over, yes?"

An agreeing nod should have concluded the sorrowful exchange of words, but instead Laryll's stomach grumbled, making the owner bend and wish for silence.

"Hungry?" the assassin sniggered.

"You think?" Laryll blurted.

"Then shall we go check what's for breakfast, provided that Dog hasn't wolfed everything?"

0-0-0-0-0

Morrigan had come back from the camp and had just stated that everything was okay. As the party was walking to the mill to meet Teagan, Iselda and Alistair told the elves about their quest. They were to form alliances with the Dalish, the Circle of Magi and the dwarfs from Orzammar. The Blight was here with the darkspawn and the Archdemon leading them. The battle at Ostagar had been a disaster, and these two Wardens were Ferelden's only drop of hope. Laryll was glad that Iselda hadn't heard any bad news from Antiva, but she felt restless when thinking of the city elves. At breakfast Zevran had suggested that he and Laryll should tag along, at least for a time being. Their presence might make things easier with the Dalish and the alienage in Denerim being in danger was reason enough for Laryll to comply.

Though Laryll wasn't eager to place her trust in humans, these two Wardens seemed to have noble goals and weren't awaiting to get rewarded. She hadn't even flipped after discovering that Alistair was a templar. There had been some unpleasant encounters with followers of his order located in Denerim, but Laryll wished to give the Warden a chance. If Iselda could entrust her back to Alistair, maybe one day she could do so, too.

It was almost midday. The sun didn't have the courage to show itself, but at least it wasn't raining. Laryll's hair shone even without sunlight and she didn't feel a hint of weakness in her. The color had returned on the elf's face, and Iselda sighed from contentment.

"You noticed it too, didn't you?" Alistair almost whispered to his fellow Warden.

"There's still some anxiety behind her eyes, but I think she's getting better", Iselda took a glance at Laryll. "Especially with the aid from her friend."

"Well, yes. If you don't mind that he's the assassin who tried to kill you."

With a smile Iselda gave a pat on Alistair's shoulder. "One assassin is not enough to slay me, and if I fail to defend myself, I have a Warden with a shield next to me, don't I?"

"Of course", the templar said without hesitation in his voice.

While Dog was barking from joy, Morrigan groaned from inner torment.

Bann Teagan observed as Iselda and the rest were walking towards him. He waited them at the village mill, which was now stopped due to some damage it had taken during the attacks.

"Good to see you all again", the bann greeted the party. "Have you rested enough? Getting to the Castle may not be a small feat."

"We cannot delay any longer", Alistair remarked. "Arl Eamon needs our help."

"Just like I needed yours, and I'm thankful for your-"

Teagan couldn't finish when he saw a woman running at them. He was about to point at her, but everyone had already turned around to see what had caught the bann's attention. Alistair seemed to be the only one who wasn't wondering who the lady was.

"Teagan!" the woman huffed. "Oh thank the Maker you're alive!"

"That's my line, Isolde", Teagan replied and offered his helping hand to the fine dressed lady, who politely refused. "No-one has heard anything from the Castle for days. What is happening there?"

Laryll couldn't help but notice the similarity between the woman's and the female Warden's names and told her point to Zevran, who just shook his head.

"It's terrible", Isolde began pacing. "My husband got poisoned and I don't know how much time he has left. The mage responsible summoned an army of horrid creatures which have killed so many already. We locked him in the prison, but the nightmare won't end. I'm... I'm so scared. My Connor has seen so much destruction that I fear for his sanity!"

"Could someone please shut her up?" Morrigan's annoyed voice spat.

Isolde looked hurt and was about to demand an explanation, but Iselda raised her hand. "What my friend means is that take a moment to calm yourself", she made an attempt to edge the mage's direct words. Iselda now knew that the Arl was still alive, so everything else would make much more sense if the only source of knowledge would slow down.

"Who...who are you all?" the arlessa was confused until her stare met someone she knew. "You are...Alistair, are you not?"

The Warden's bow was more mocking than respecting. "Glad you still remember me."

_Maybe I should ask him how he knows this panicking human when the opportunity rises_, Laryll rolled her eyes at the templar who just shrugged and asked 'what' when seeing the thinking elf.

"These people saved the village and may be able to help Eamon as well", Teagan gave a short version.

It took a while for Laryll to identify Isolde's accent. She was Orlesian no doubt. There were no Orlesians in the alienage, but Cyrion had told her they were mostly proud and pompous people. This lady was no exception. Fixed posture, lifted chin and expensive clothes.

Regardless, Isolde took the Warden's advice and caught her breath. "I can't say much because I fear that I might be listened to by that mage or his underlings. The evil in the Castle... It allowed me to come and get you, Teagan, because I told it you could help Connor. Please tell me that you'll come with me."

No-one knew what to say, but Morrigan scoffed. "What a lovely demon you have living under your roof. I'm most curious about how you managed to converse with it, if it's so evil."

There was a questioning break before Iselda turned to face the bann. "Teagan, this could be a trap. If there's a demon, then it won't have any intention of letting you go once you enter the Castle."

"Yet we don't have time to scheme something else", Teagan sighed and considered the matter hard before answering. If the arlessa were to return without him, the evil would accuse her of lying, which would be unhealthy for her. "I will go with you, Isolde, but give me a moment with the Warden."

"Thank the spirits, Teagan!" the Orlesian raised her head from relief. Her grinning lips said that she would wait at the village entry and she tripped away.

Finally, after Isolde had walked away, Laryll opened her mouth. "Are you really going with her? With that negligible amount of information?"

"I have to agree with my friend", Zevran added. "This is a suicide."

"Maybe, but I have another route into the Castle for you", smirked the bann and removed a ring from his finger. "This is my signet ring. There's a secret passage to the Castle in the mill and this will open the door." He handed the item to Iselda, who curled her fingers over it. "Forget about me, just help Eamon."

Alistair glimpsed the village mill and nodded at Iselda, approving the plan. They wouldn't reach the Arl before Teagan and Isolde, but they would have the element of surprise. Against a demon, or whatever was in the Castle, that would be crucial. He loathed the idea of letting Teagan go alone, but it would be even more dangerous if Isolde brought additional company with her, making the enemy very unpleased.

Because there were no other suggestions and the bann had made up his mind, Iselda's still eyes looked at Teagan. "We will be as fast as possible, for the Arl and for you", she promised. Her armor clinked when she spun around and rushed to the mill's door, Dog trailing after her.

Laryll felt like she should do something to prevent Teagan from going to his doom, but her mind was blank. Zevran wouldn't allow her to take the bann's place and the secret door which could be opened with the ring was their only way in. She bit her lower lip and cursed her incapability.

Suddenly her quivering fist was forced open and she felt a soft hand in hers. "Don't worry", the elf with the scent of Antivan leather crooned into Laryll's ear. The lump in her throat disappeared and her body was warm again. In order not to expose her red cheeks, Laryll let her hair act as a curtain when she turned around and joined Iselda, thanking her elven friend as she passed him.

"Maker watch over you", Alistair said to the bann before he followed the others.

"May He watch over us all", Teagan muttered after them.

* * *

**Notes:_ mi rubi = my ruby_ **

**_mi elfo favorita = my favorite elf_**

**_mama = mommy, mom_**

**I still don't speak Spanish, so if someone does, tell me if you notice mistakes. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Only a couple of days till the school starts, I'm so exited. There's going to be lessons three times per week, but the days will be long, so I'll use the free days to write after all homework is done.**

**Sorry if the story doesn't get updated as often as I'd want, but I need to read every chapter over and over again during and after the writing in order to spot the mistakes or poor choices of words. It would be so easy to write in Finnish. :D**

**But anyway, have a cup of coffee or tea and enjoy.**

Iselda waved to the others when she found the secret door leading to the Castle. It was concealed with straws and dirt, but a quick whisk with boot revealed the hide. She didn't bother to ask Alistair to open the heavy hatch but did it herself. The door let out a creaking sound and the elven assassin entered first. He caught Laryll who descended after him and quickly moved out of the way when glaring Morrigan was about to climb down. Alistair's armor clattered when Dog swept past him and finally Iselda closed the door behind her.

Torches hung on the stonewalls and Laryll rubbed her hands together because of the cold air. Water was slowly dripping somewhere and a few rats made squeaking noises. This wasn't the first time Alistair had seen the basement of the Castle, but it always made him wonder how something so ugly and gloomy could exist under something so beautiful and elegant. There were cells along the corridor which only added to the misery of this place.

However, one of the cells awakened the party's interest. Same undead monsters they had encountered in the village seemed to be trying to break into it. They stretched their hands as in order to grab something inside and let out hungry gurgling sounds. A call for help from the cell confirmed that there really was someone the creatures were targeting.

Laryll took one of her daggers and in a swift movement the blade sliced the air, finding its home in the monster's face before the Wardens or even Zevran could react. Morrigan also wasn't eager to wait and cast a spell, freezing another undead. The frozen statue was shattered by Alistair's shield and Iselda ordered Dog to attack the last one, giving Zevran an opportunity to sneak around and backstab it. The stench the corpses emitted made Laryll to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Who...what... What's going on? Who's there?" a trembling voice came from the cell. A human was attempting to take a peek at his saviors, pressing his face against the cold iron bars.

Iselda put her sword away and showed herself to the prisoner. "We really don't have the luxury of time, so let me put it like this: we are here to figure out what's wrong with the Arl and what the hell is going on in the Castle. I'd really appreciate it if we could leave the formalities aside and see if our shared knowledge could help the situation."

For a while, the human in the cell had no words to answer the Warden. The Antivan just smirked and Alistair was the one in most hurry to get to Eamon, so he approved the rush. The silence was broken by Morrigan's yawning and Dog's panting.

The prisoner lifted his head. "Yes, of course, the situation", he cleared his throat. "My name's Jowan. I'm a mage from the Circle...or was. Anyway, I was asked to come here to help lady Isolde's son, to instruct him, but things got out of hand."

"Obviously", Morrigan snorted.

Ignoring the witch, Alistair stepped forward. "Why would Isolde ask a mage to teach Connor?"

Laryll could guess the answer, but again, Morrigan had faster tongue. "The boy has magic in his blood, does he not?" She narrowed her eyes at Jowan, who nodded.

_She wished to hide the fact_, Alistair thought. And if he knew Isolde at all, she was probably ashamed. Being a mage was a straight ticket to the Circle Tower. If you didn't go there, like Morrigan, you would be considered to be an apostate, and as a templar he knew how some of his order would treat them. Of course there were blood mages and such and he knew a lot of them don't have good intentions, but he would never use his position to abuse a mage, an apostate or not. Although he had no sympathy for evil wizards.

Jowan shook his head. "I was a fool. I thought I did a good thing by following Teyrn Loghain's orders, but instead-"

"You did what?" Iselda snapped, her eyes wide and flaring. Her anger got empowered by Alistair's glare.

"When Loghain got a hint that a mage was needed in the Castle, he employed me", Jowan didn't look directly at the Wardens. "He offered me protection if I... If I poisoned the Arl."

"You bastard", Alistair snarled and his fingers searched for his sword. "So this is all your fault!"

"Wait", said a sweet elven voice and Laryll put her hand on the templar's. She felt the clenched fist under her palm loosening and glanced at the caged human. "Protection from what?"

For a moment the mage had a relieved look on his face, but his eyes soon saddened again. "I escaped from the Circle. Loghain promised he'd hide me from the templars who are pursuing me. He...convinced me that the Arl was an enemy, but now I'm questioning his judgment after seeing your reactions."

"But I'm not responsible for these monsters, I swear!" he continued. "After I had completed my task, Connor attempted to help his father with magic. I told him not to do it, but he managed to summon something evil. That evil is the one who's causing all this. Of course lady Isolde wouldn't believe me, so here I am, waiting till rats or the executioner get my head. I will atone in my death, because there's no other fate for me."

The Wardens had told Laryll and Zevran how this Teyrn Loghain had betrayed the King and blamed the Grey Wardens for the tragedy. The human in the cell reminded Laryll of an elven fugitive she had once met in the alienage. She had helped the elf, who had been on the run for a crime she hadn't commit. In the end, the fugitive was tricked by a human city guard, just like this Jowan had been deceived by the teyrn. The memory made Laryll think of her incapability of saving the elf, even though she could have done something. She had been the only one with the truth.

"Iselda", Laryll turned to the Warden, "what he did is unforgivable, but I understand his reasons. I'm just saying that do not be in haste to doom him, because he had no idea who he worked for. There's...innocence in his eyes."

That surprised Zevran in a good way. He had been afraid that whatever had happened to Laryll had changed her forever. Although Laryll did prove her will to fight for unknown people by defending the villagers. If she could show mercy for this human, then perhaps her wounds were finally healing. Zevran liked to think that it was partly thanks to his presence, but for now he was just glad that his friend was gathering her strength back.

For the first time, Morrigan vouched Laryll's statement. "The spirit has to be a strong one in order to control this kind of undead army and it shouldn't have any cause to keep the arlessa and her brat alive, unless they have something or someone it wants. The demon would have killed or possessed the one who called it, and I do not sense any kind of spirit inside this mage."

"Fine", sighed Iselda after a long time of quiet pondering and took a step closer to the cell. She examined the lock, while curious pairs of eyes stared at her. To her it looked like the sword would only get ruined if the lock was to be forced open. "Zevran, could you take care of this?" she waved her hand at the assassin.

The Antivan was happy to help. A fine tool made of steel appeared between his fingers and within mere seconds he had picked the lock. The cell door creaked and glided open when he tugged it.

"You... Are you going to let me go?" Jowan didn't know what else to say.

"I was just about to ask the same thing", Alistair frowned at the other Warden.

"There's no use to let him stay here to rot", Morrigan replied quickly. "Out there, he's either going to get captured or killed. Or both. I say, let him take his chances. He seems harmless enough."

When Alistair was going to remind Morrigan about 'harmless apostates', he was stopped by Iselda. "I told you we do not have time. I'll trust mine and my friend's instincts. There's a secret door just behind us, you could use it and if you're lucky, the guards from the village won't spot you."

The male Warden's mouth was filled with protests, but Laryll poked him with her elbow. She wished that Alistair could see it didn't matter whether they released Jowan or not. Life of an escaped mage was constant survival. There were only few more uncomfortable punishments than running for the rest of your life.

Iselda moved so that Jowan could get out of his prison. She jerked her head, gesturing the mage to start walking towards the exit.

"Thank you", Jowan gave a weak smile. "I will find a way to repay you."

"Sever all your connections to Loghain and that will be sufficient", Iselda said, still a bit unsure if this was the right thing to do. "And do not poison anyone anymore."

There was almost no sound when Jowan ran, passing the other empty cells. He turned around briefly, to catch a final glimpse of his saviors. Laryll had a look on her face which recommended him to hurry up before the Wardens would change their minds and charge with their weapons. The mage seemed like he could read the elf's thoughts because he quickly disappeared behind the corner.

"I really do hope you are a good judge of character", Alistair had buried his face into his palm, but Laryll knew he meant her.

0-0-0-0-0

The dungeons led into the Castle, but not the right room. The party had to fight their way through a horde of undead creatures and shades, but their teamwork provided excellent results. Enemies were so focused on the Wardens the elves could land lethal strikes from behind. Every monster that tried to stand up was a prey to Dog who jumped on top of them and dug its teeth into rotten flesh. The air got chilly from Morrigan's favorite freezing spell and sometimes she wasn't too careful with lightning bolts.

The Castle was huge, and there were so many rooms. Laryll wondered if even every servant had their own chamber. There was no other way to fill all this space. It felt like all the rooms alone were bigger than Cyrion's entire house. She took pity for whoever had to wash the carpets. The length of her red hair was nothing compared to the crimson carpets covering the floors.

After about a hour of clearing the halls and hallways from monsters Alistair found a door to outside. Everyone was still wary, but they kept their weapons sheathed. The templar went first, ready to take any surprise attack. When he was certain there was no immediate danger, he told the others to follow.

As soon as Laryll's boots touched the grass, she pricked up her ears. "Did you hear that?" she whispered and as she looked around, she saw an archer on the stairs leading to the Castle aiming at Zevran.

Without a warning, she pushed the assassin and fell down with him. The arrow flew right above them, thudding on wall behind Iselda. Laryll watched as Morrigan handled the walking corpse with a well placed shot of magical energy. Seconds later some other undead limped down the stairs, ignoring their dead kin.

"As much as I like the view, I believe we have a battle to fight, _mi rub__í_", Zevran chuckled under Laryll.

The read-headed elf flushed and tumbled up. The leather armor Iselda had insisted on buying for her was quite revealing but only now she was made aware of that. Her arms almost raised to cover her chest, but that would have looked too awkward, so she just grabbed her daggers and muttered to Zevran to 'shut up and fight'.

There were so few undead that the creatures didn't stand a chance. Iselda's big sword was able to cut weakened corpses in half and Alistair offered toys for Dog by knocking enemies down with his shield. The fight was about to be finished before it had even started.

Suddenly, Morrigan felt a bad aura, but her observation came too late. Before she could prepare another spell, Laryll was fiercely pulled from the others by a strong force. She gasped when her body hit the ground again and she almost lost her consciousness from the impact.

Zevran had already abandoned his current target and was dashing to his friend even though he hadn't seen the attacker. But then he noticed the dark, armored figure beside prone Laryll. "Get up, Laryll! That's a Revenant!" he shouted once recognizing the undead knight.

Laryll didn't need to be told twice. The Revenant had lifted his blade and brought it down. The elf rolled aside and stood up. It was odd that she didn't feel fear even when she didn't know about her opponent. The only explanation she could think of was that now she wasn't facing the enemies alone.

But it wasn't Zevran nor the Wardens who made it to Laryll first. To Laryll's shock a huge bear bull rushed the Revenant. The undead knight was left staggering and the bear clasped its sharp teeth around the victim's sword arm, eventually tearing it off. Nasty looking black ooze dripped from the stump, but the Revenant didn't intend to slow down. He picked up his dark blade with the uninjured arm and raised it above his head.

Laryll saw the vulnerable spot and jabbed her dagger into the knight's armpit. Her face got stained by the murky thick liquid so she backed off in order to clean her eyes. She could hear the bear's roar when it arose to stand with two legs. The Revenant couldn't evade the animal's claws which dug into his body and he fell. His helmet got knocked off which made possible for Laryll to cut the knight's throat. The undead gurgled and twitched before dying, if you could say that about an undead.

After a magical flash the bear transformed back into Morrigan, who had a pleased grin. "Maybe it'll stay dead this time", she said.

"...Thank you", huffing Laryll managed to blurt. "I owe you one."

"That was the plan", the witch laughed a little.

It was only then when Laryll realized the pain on her side. She winced and gently touched the hurting spot. Even with the armor she could feel stinging pain when placing her hand on the injured area.

The elf's agony wasn't left unnoticed, and Zevran was already next to her. "Did you break a rib?" he drew a conclusion from what he saw, which was Laryll being careful not to meddle with her right side.

"Yeah, I think so", nodded Laryll. "But we can't waste time treating it now. The front door of the Castle is right there." She pointed at large double doors at the top of the stairs. "We haven't seen the bann, so either he hasn't arrived yet or he's inside and needs our help."

"I agree", Alistair placed his sword and shield on his back.

Iselda sighed and took a look of the assassin, who wasn't too eager to enter the Castle while Laryll was hurt. "Let's go, but keep an eye on our friend", her eyes met Zevran's.

"Of course", the Antivan's voice was clear. Laryll's promises of being okay didn't reach his ears. There was not even a meter between them, and Zevran was going to keep it that way. No matter what it took, he would not let Death get as near Laryll as it had once got.

0-0-0-0-0

Even though the others didn't have their weapons, Morrigan was holding her staff when they got through the doors. If the demon controlling this place showed itself, she wouldn't hesitate to launch every bit of her mana at it. Though Iselda tried to convince her to wait till they would see the whole situation.

There were no guards, which was probably because the demon or the undead had killed them. The atmosphere felt just wrong. It was full of evil. Laryll's nose began to itch again, but she made no effort to scratch it, because Zevran would then detect her nervousness.

Before the party entered the next hall, Dog let out a silent growl. With a low voice Iselda told the others, that there was going to be something in the room. Everyone prepared themselves and followed Iselda.

The scene was not what they had expected. There was Bann Teagan, but not dead, not in the middle of conversation, not panicking. He was dancing, or at least trying to with his skills. He was jumping and smiling, his arms waving around him and his boots clacking against the wooden floor.

Laryll averted her eyes from the bann and saw Isolde, who stood beside a young boy. _Must be Connor,_ she thought and tapped Zevran's shoulder, making him to see the arlessa and her son, too. She didn't have to tell the Wardens, because Iselda was already walking towards Isolde with a serious look on her face.

Teagan stopped dancing and sat next to Connor, watching him as if he was waiting for the next order. The arlessa seemed grim, but her son on the other hand was very joyful. When he spoke, a deep voice echoed behind his own.

"Look, mother", Connor said, "we have guests. Why wasn't I told we would have guests?"

Isolde turned her head. "Connor, sweetie. These are your uncle's friends. They probably came to meet him."

"Ah, I see." The foreign voice coming from the boy sounded delighted. "But my uncle is so very busy right now, because I want to play with him. Maybe our guest could play with my other friends in the meantime?"

"Connor, please!" Isolde fell on her knees. "Please, fight the demon. Do not let it take a hold of you, I beg of you. Come back to me, Connor!"

For a while Laryll hoped that the noble's words would have an effect, when the boy began to shook his head and his voice sounded normal.

"M...mother?" muttered the child. "What...what did I do?"

"Oh, Connor, are you okay?" the arlessa sobbed from relief, but her happiness was a short one.

"Shut up, woman!" the evil voice was back, rolling from Connor's tongue. "I'll have my friends kill you if you don't obey me!"

Isolde was as stunned as Iselda and her companions.

Morrigan narrowed her eyes. "'Twas the child. The demon possessed him."

"Please, my boy is not to blame!" Isolde cried. "He just wanted to help his father!"

"Yes, father is now alive", Connor smiled. "I have what I wanted."

Alistair gritted his teeth. If the demon was in Connor, this would be very problematic. Killing the evil spirit would have meant killing the boy, and he or the others did not fancy that solution. He took a glimpse of Iselda, who didn't seem to have any better ideas than him. When he turned to the elves however he noted Laryll's frowning. He would have paid a gold piece for her thoughts. Unfortunately he couldn't have known what was going to happen next, or else he would have halted the elf.

Laryll took a step closer. "He's not alive", she sounded little angry. "If he's not in control of himself, then he's not alive."

"You dare to oppose me, elf?"

Teagan was just laughing and agreeing that Connor shouldn't be questioned. But Laryll continued to glare while Zevran asked her to stop. Alistair had a very bad feeling.

"You're a coward", Laryll spat. "Why don't you attack us when we are right in front of you? You know we are not going back before the Arl is safe."

The provocation didn't work for Connor just burst into laugh. "Why should I do anything when I can have a knife-ear like yourself do my bidding?"

That should have been a warning enough, but no-one could act before the demon inside the child cast a spell on Laryll. The red-head screamed and held her head with both hands. The arlessa's hand flew to her mouth while Teagan sat with an approving sneer. Dog barked Laryll heard someone calling for her with an Antivan accent, but after that she slumped and her mind was not her own.

"Laryll?" Iselda leaned to see the elf's face, but was forced to dodge when Laryll swiftly unsheathed her dagger and sliced the air, snapping a few strands of the Warden's hair. She cursed, but did not take her sword, and her example was followed by Alistair.

Morrigan quickly drew her mana and paralyzed Laryll. "Would you rather I freeze her?" she asked from Zevran, who was about to get mad at the mage for her actions.

The spell however failed when Connor, or the demon within him, dispelled it. Laryll was able to move again and immediately ran towards Morrigan. Her blades met Zevran's who jumped in front of the witch. He tried to search for his friend, but there was nothing familiar behind those eyes leering at him. Even the purple color seemed to have faded.

"Stop this, Laryll", he prayed. "This is not you. Remember who you are!"

The controlled elf gnarled, released one of her blades and thrust it. The dagger cut Zevran's arm. He didn't evade, because he still couldn't believe this was Laryll he was fighting against. He had always thought that losing his dear friend with ruby colored hair would be the worst thing he could imagine, but how wrong he had been.

While he had no idea what to do, Iselda grabbed Laryll's arms and pulled them up, the daggers still tightly clenched in the elf's hands. "Alistair, knock her out!" she yelled and struggled to keep Laryll still.

Again the demon gave a helping hand for its puppet. A bolt of lightning struck Iselda, which made her let go of Laryll. The elf kicked the Warden in stomach and swung her weapon. This time Morrigan didn't resort to paralyzing spell, but cast a magical shield around Iselda. The barrier took Laryll's blow, but it wouldn't last long.

Zevran wanted to throw his dagger into the demon's face, but that would kill the boy. Plus he wasn't sure if Laryll would return normal with the demon's death, and he wasn't willing to take the risk. His thoughts made no sense, all he could see was Laryll smiling at him.

A gasp got his attention again. Laryll was holding her side. _The broken rib_, the Antivan elf got worried. She was biting her lip and her eyes pierced Zevran. Wet eyes, Zevran noticed and felt a lump in his throat. A stream of tears was flowing along Laryll's cheeks and she looked extremely scared.

"She's still there", Zevran breathed, not caring that the others couldn't hear him.

"What are you waiting for, kill him!" Connor shrieked.

Having no control of her body, Laryll charged, her daggers ready to cut. The assassin didn't even flinch. Iselda cried to him to move, but Zevran didn't comply. He dropped his weapons which clattered once touching the ground and stared at the empty-eyed elf, who was closing in fast. When Alistair was making a move, Morrigan shocked him by commanding him to do nothing. Dog whined in confusion.

Laryll's battle cry was full of tears and pain when she attacked. The blades nearly got Zevran's heart, but the assassin dodged just in time. He shifted and by striking the elf's wrist with his palm he disarmed one of the weapons. Not having a moment to feel sorry, Zevran locked his fingers around Laryll's armed hand and dragged her into an embrace, keeping the dagger away from him.

"Wake up, Laryll", the Antivan repeated the same words he had used in the village. Not only his friend's hair was colored red, but it also smelled of red apples. He brushed it slowly, afraid that his plan wouldn't be successful and every stroke would be his last. He remembered how sad he had been when Laryll got adopted, striving to say the farewells without tears in his eyes. The Crows had taught him to hide his emotions, but never did he forget about Laryll. If he survived this, he would definitely tell her that.

The hand in Zevran's grasp trembled, and the curled fingers relaxed. The remaining dagger slammed against the wood and the assassin lowered Laryll's arm. He cupped the elf's face into his hands and watched as the purple color gradually returned in her pupils. The orbs shone and reflected Zevran's image.

"Zev...", was all Laryll had time to sigh before her legs gave away.

The assassin supported the exhausted red-head and pressed her against his chest. "Welcome back, _mi querida_." A lone bead of salty water ran across his face, but he allowed that. He owed that to his friend who, despite her strong nature, had cried so much in front of him.

Through her eyelashes Laryll saw Connor running away but it was the sight of Zevran's bloody arm wrapped around her which conquered her mind before the darkness took her.

* * *

**Notes: _mi querida=my dear_**

**No skipping, the next chapter will continue from where this one ended.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**The first week at the school went smoothly. Looking forward to get there again.**

**In case someone's wondering, I do answer every review, it's weird that you have to use private messaging and not let everyone to see your reply. That's why I'm not putting extra information in these notes, except for warnings or stuff like that.**

**So, grab a snack and enjoy the next chapter, just don't spill anything on your keyboard!**

"Connor!" Isolde called her son when he escaped, but when she heard a grunt behind her, she turned around. "Oh Maker! Teagan, are you alright?" She helped the bann on his feet.

The demon's spell had been canceled and the spirit forced its host to run away in order to save its own skin. It couldn't order around even Teagan anymore. There was no need to try and recast the magic, because the target was now unconscious. Especially the other elf looked like he wouldn't hesitate to kill the demon along with the boy if the redhead lying in his arms was controlled again.

The bann rubbed his eyes. "I'm okay, Isolde", he assured. "I...I saw all of you, but I couldn't say what I wished. I'm sorry that I couldn't warn you."

"Where is he going?" Iselda sounded frustrated, glaring at Connor whose fluttering vest was the last thing she had seen of him before he had vanished.

The arlessa shook her head and was on a verge of crying. "In his room", she responded, trembling. "Sometimes when Connor manages to fight the demon back, he gets so scared and wants to be left alone. He...he must know about the terrible things this evil creature is making him do."

_She was aware of her actions, too_, Zevran didn't say out loud. He had fallen on his knees, holding Laryll's upper body on his lap. Her breathing still wasn't calm and her finger twitched occasionally even though she was asleep. If Zevran's plan hadn't worked, their only option would have been to knock her out, and the Antivan wanted to avoid that outcome. Being made attack the allies was already cruel enough.

He sighed and his eyes rose to meet Isolde. "Is there a place where she could rest?" He switched to look at Iselda. "I assume your business is not yet done here, so we're not about to leave this place, right?" A nod from the Warden was a clear answer for him.

"You can take her to the room just behind you", Teagan said on behalf of Isolde. "There's a couch and-"

"Thanks", Zevran stopped the bann and lifted the slim elf. He had no time for courtesies, a noble's home or not. Not even Isolde pointed out his rude behavior. He couldn't care less about the stares gathered on his back. After entering the next room he could hear Iselda stating 'leave them be' to the others.

All the sofas in the room had red toppings, a color similar to Laryll's hair. Zevran picked the one which looked the most unused and comfortable. Carefully he put the elf in his arms down and placed a couple of ornate pillows under Laryll's head. Only then he noticed the wound on his arm again. He took some dressings from his pocket and quickly bound the injury.

_Help me, Zevran, please! It's still me, I would never betray you! Please listen to me!_

The assassin stirred and erased the voice from his thoughts by pressing the fresh cut, making it bleed through the white wrappings. Ignoring the pain, he sat beside Laryll and got a grip of himself by running his fingers through the sleeping redhead's soft crimson tresses. Was the memory brought up because of Laryll having been forced to turn against him?

Antivan curses rolled from his mouth. "She would never... I would never...", he couldn't finish, repeating the same words silently aloud. In order to push away his thoughts, Zevran tried to listen what the others were talking about with the arlessa and the bann, keeping Laryll's hand in his and brushing it slowly with thumb.

The humans sounded desperate. Teagan was saying something about slaying the demon, but he was interrupted by the Warden Iselda, who reminded him that would kill Connor as well. The Orlesian woman was sobbing, begging not to hurt her boy, even though Zevran owed the demon a great deal of pain. Only Morrigan seemed to want the easiest solution, as long as the spirit was dead. The assassin didn't know much about the Wardens, but he remembered the arlessa recognizing Alistair in the village. He was quite sure the templar had some kind of connection to the Arl because his loud voice was opposing that he couldn't do such a thing to Eamon.

The assassin's free hand flew instantly to the dagger strapped on his back when he heard unknown footsteps coming from the main double doors. There was no need to tell the Wardens. He heard Dog's low growling and chinking of blades being drawn out. If whoever had entered the Castle was here to seek a fight, Zevran would act first and ask questions later. He slightly squeezed Laryll's hand.

Apparently the intruder had figured out what kind of welcome was waiting for him. "Please, it's me", declared Jowan, the mage Iselda had freed earlier. He showed himself, approaching steadily.

Isolde's mouth was gaping from shock. "You...!" she was pointing at Jowan. "How did you get out?! You murderer, what are you doing here?!"

Teagan was about to support the arlessa by readying his sword, but Iselda stepped between. "I released him", she admitted and gave an irritated glare to the Circle mage, "but if I recall correctly, I told him to turn his back and walk away."

"You were going to let go the man who poisoned my husband?" snarled Isolde with a severe look on her face. "Teagan, I demand that you cut down this filthy creature!"

"Please, lady Isolde, please hear me out!" Jowan insisted, careful not to get any nearer. "I may have an alternative option regarding the situation with your son."

This time Isolde was not the only one who lifted her brow. Even Zevran's curiosity awakened and he leaned back to hear better, relaxing the hand which was grabbing the hilt of one of his daggers.

Jowan thanked for the second chance. "Killing Connor would certainly get rid of the demon, but it doesn't have to be so. There is an old ritual, which would allow a mage to enter the Fade, the realm of demons and spirits, and battle the creature in there. If the demon was killed in the Fade, it wouldn't harm the body its possessing."

The libelous snort couldn't belong to anyone else than Morrigan. "What you are suggesting is the same kind of magic ritual which is performed during a mage's Harrowing. If so, it would require a large amount of lyrium and at least a couple of senior mages to cast the spell."

The term Harrowing brought a bitter taste on Alistair's tongue. Luckily he hadn't taken his templar vows. That would have made him able to take part in the Harrowing, which basically existed to see if a mature Circle mage could resist the temptations of demons. If the mage failed and became possessed, a templar who was stationed to attend the event would have to kill the demon along with the mage. The Warden was glad that his training hasn't affected his ability to feel for innocent wizards like Connor, who didn't know about the consequences.

But he had no approval for what Jowan said next. "Yes, normally this ritual needs lyrium and a powerful mage who could perform it. But I...have blood magic."

"Oh, great", Alistair swung his arms. "Just give me a command and I'll open my vein for you. Would a wrist be okay? Or perhaps I'll just cut my throat?"

Iselda stirred from the idea, but gathered her courage to inquiry some more. "I'll despise myself for even asking, but how would your blood magic work?"

"The blood of a sacrifice would have the same power as a pile of lyrium would have", Jowan explained and paused for a moment, lowering his gaze. "However, I'm afraid that I'd need all of the blood from the...source."

"Then I volunteer", stated Isolde before Alistair could point out how ridiculous Jowan's proposal was. "I would gladly sacrifice myself for Connor."

"This is madness", Teagan snapped and his eyes searched for help from Iselda. "Tell her, my lady. Tell her she can't do this. What would I say to Eamon?"

Everyone was more or less lost. The heavy choices were crushing Iselda's shoulders and she was again left to decide which course should they take. Obviously Morrigan didn't care and when she requested the other Warden's opinion, Alistair shrugged.

"I don't know any better than you", the templar sighed. "I mean, I would never suggest killing a child and I don't trust blood magic. There are only dirty and tragic paths ahead of us, yet I see no other ways."

The humans joined in silence. Zevran knew he didn't have any kind of input about the matter. He didn't have much knowledge of blood magic, but there were countless number of bad stories about it. His blades had never tasted blood of a child and he was not about to change that. But whatever Iselda was going to do, he was relieved that Laryll wasn't awake to witness it.

0-0-0-0-0

_Ow, my head... Ugh, what happened? I...wait..._

_ That tune... Who's humming it? Such a sweet, gentle voice, full of love._

_ Mamá?_

_ She's singing my favorite song. What a lovely silk dress she's wearing. It looks like a river of milk, floating behind her like that._

_ Where is she going?_

_ Mamá, wait for me! Stop...huh? Who's that?_

_ A templar? Is that... Ser Meurik? From the alienage? Is he here to question the keeper again? Leave us alone already! Go, disappear!_

_ There's someone beside him. A girl? Could she be Thiana? But isn't she..._

_ What's going on? Mamá, come back! Thiana, get away from that templar! No... Why am I alone? Can't anyone hear me? Help me, I can't make them listen!_

_ Agh, it hurts..._

_ Gone? Everyone's gone. No, I can still detect noises. They're familiar. What are they saying? Someone begging. 'Please don't kill my son'. Blood magic? Sacrifice?_

_ No! They can't! Stop them! Someone!_

_ Who...who is holding my hand?_

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll took a sharp breath and her eyes flew open.

"Laryll?" Zevran was startled by the sleeping elf's sudden awakening. "It's alright, calm down. Just breathe."

She was no longer lingering in the Fade, consumed by dreams of her past. After realizing that, Laryll opened her fist which was grasping the blanket and noticed her other hand felt warm because Zevran's fingers were curled around it. At the same time she saw the bloody cloth around the assassin's arm.

Then her pupils shrunk. _I did that_, she remembered. _I cut him. I attacked him._

Tears began to well in Laryll's eyes, but she bit her lip hard and rose up, only to be stopped by her friend.

"There's no rush, my dear", Zevran tried. "We are still in the Castle. The Wardens haven't reached a consensus regarding the matter with the arlessa's kid."

"Blood magic? Sacrifice?" the words came to Laryll's mouth when she recalled of having heard them before.

The Antivan's wish hadn't been granted. The red-haired elf had regained her consciousness just in time to hear about the options for killing the demon. She would never agree and stand aside. Therefore it didn't matter so Zevran clarified the situation to Laryll. He was not pleased to see the elf's stunned expression.

"That mage, Jowan, is able to use blood instead of lyrium, which we don't have", Zevran concluded. "Sounds pretty scary and sad, but I'd say it beats slaying an young boy."

_Scary and sad? We are talking about ending a life here_, Laryll thought, her hands trembling. It was quiet. She could hear Morrigan hastening the others to choose, but the Wardens didn't say a word. It had to be Isolde who was sobbing and convincing that she was ready to die for Connor. Not even Laryll would hesitate if her life could save another, but there had to be some way to keep both the arlessa and her son alive.

But what did they have? A Circle blood mage, zero lyrium, frightened boy possessed by a demon and a mother who was willing to be sacrificed.

Abruptly Laryll lifted her head. "Thiana... _Mam__á_...", she muttered.

"What?" Zevran was puzzled, but didn't have a chance to ask when the redhead moved her legs and stood up. It pained him to see his friend gritting her teeth and pressing her hand against the side with the broken rib. "Hey, what are you-" he hoisted himself up, but his concern was ignored.

_Why didn't I think of that right away?_ Laryll blamed herself and slowly limped to the room where everyone else was gathered. She hated digging up her past, but this time it was worth it. An image of a Circle mage she had met years ago popped into her mind. A noble girl called Thiana who had ended up in Denerim, looking for someone to aid her to get back to the Circle. Unfortunately there were hundreds of miles between the city and the tower, and before Laryll's mind got infested by the grim details, she shut down the memory.

Dog's happy bark was the first to greet Laryll. Alistair tapped Iselda's shoulder and the Warden turned around with a fragile smile on her face.

"Look who's up again", Iselda grinned. "You ought to get rid of this habit of yours. When am I ever going to share my dirtiest secrets with you if you keep getting knocked out?"

The humans' sense of humor was still weird to Laryll, but she had no time to figure out whether she was insulted or being cheered up. It was a relief to see that no blood had been spilled yet and Connor was nowhere to be found.

She took a deep breath and straightened her back. "The Circle", she began, feeling a bit light-headed, "we could go to the Circle to seek help."

It seemed all the stares were directed at Laryll and Alistair opened his mouth. "That's it", he sounded hopeful. "She's totally right. One of the Grey Warden contracts is for the Circle, so we are going there anyway. Why not now?"

Teagan shook his head. "Even if you could get them to give us a hand, it would take at least a couple of days to reach the tower. We simply don't have time. Who knows what the demon's going to do next?"

"The demon won't be able to do anything", Laryll quickly elucidated. "There is a Dalish recipe of certain mixed ingredients which can put a person to safe sleep for days or even a week. When Connor manages to get a hold of his body again, command him to drink the 'medicine'." She glanced at Zevran, hoping that he would know what she meant.

Crossing his hands, the assassin nodded. "It's true. This reckless elven friend of mine once took a sip of this particular potion my mother had prepared with the help of an Antivan mage and didn't wake up until three nights had passed, and that was only a tiny gulp. Plus she was four years old, so it should be harmless to the arlessa's son."

_I'm not reckless_, Laryll glared her Antivan companion, who just watched the ceiling. "I'm positive all the herbs can be found in the forest nearby", she continued. "The mixture needs some deathroot too, but only a single leaf. It is to strengthen the effectiveness of sleeping powder."

"I could make it", Jowan said and took a glimpse of Isolde. "It is the least I can do after the mess I've created. Please, let me be of use."

The arlessa was in no hurry to trust the mage again, yet when the Wardens and their friends would head to the Circle, Jowan would be the sole one left who had the skill to produce the potion. "If you even get near my son...", her eyes narrowed.

"My lady, I swear that I'll mix the ingredients, give the bottle to you and after that you can do whatever you like to me. I have no intention to hurt Connor, I promise. Let the gentleman next to you behead me if I fail."

Glances were exchanged among the people in the room, but Laryll's purple eyes were the brightest. Iselda took a notice of that and was glad of the elf's presence. What would she had decided if the redhead hadn't awoken? The noble daughter of the Cousland family, responsible for the murder of the arlessa of Redcliffe or her son.

Her boots rustled when she began to march towards the exit.

"Uh, Iselda?" Alistair asked, confused.

"The Circle is waiting for us", the female Warden stated. "Let's go, we'll have to move our camp."

The templar agreed and told the bann they would return as soon as possible. He waved his hand at Laryll and gestured at Jowan. Laryll walked to the blood mage and listed the items he would need. Common things, but vital in order to make this work. Morrigan, of course, wasn't too happy about the trip to the Circle, but she just raised her chin and followed Iselda.

Zevran was tempted to run to Laryll's side when he saw her groaning from pain once but something was preventing him from doing so. The feeling he had the same as when you would grab a burning coal and realize after a second it was searing hot. What if that piece of coal was too important to lose? Too important to let go?

A shout from Iselda made him move, but he kept his distance from Laryll. His heart warmed like an igniting coal if he got too close, and it made him uneasy. Every time Laryll turned to meet his eyes he gave her a smile, although once he could see only the red hair, his mouth reverted back into a thin line.

He was afraid.

0-0-0-0-0

"Bodahn", Iselda greeted the dwarf merchant once entering the camp, "everything's fine here?"

"More than fine, I assure you", Bodahn laughed and his son next to him agreed by saying 'enchantment', one of the few words he seemed to be able to say.

"Nice to meet you finally", bowed an Orlesian bard when Alistair introduced Laryll and Zevran to her. "My name is Leliana. I look forward to get to know more about you. Morrigan's only information was 'we've got two elves hanging around with us now'. Please forgive her."

"If the Warden has accepted these two elves, it must mean they have some skill", a low voice belonging to a qunari warrior Sten said. "We'll see if it is enough."

Without anyone telling it was quite clear this Leliana person was a woman who loved to banter, whereas the huge, armored qunari was better off to be left alone. Alistair explained that Bodahn was traveling with them for now with his son named Sandal, providing the party with some potions and equipment. Because it would not have been wise to visit towns and other destinations with such many people, few would have to stay in the camp. Iselda had freed Sten who had been in a cage, waiting for his execution, so the qunari had volunteered to remain with the dwarfs in order to regain his strength. Leliana was a Chantry sister and she had had some kind of a vision which led her to join with the Wardens. She had asked to spend some time to find out more about her dream, therefore she had also stayed in the camp.

Everyone had their own tents and Bodahn was kind to give ones for the elves, too. He also gave Laryll a healing potion, which he said had 'an extra kick in it'. Soon the curing liquid was healing Laryll's broken rib and the lilac bruise on her side started to fade out. It still stung a little, but she could breath now normally. She handed the empty bottle back to Bodahn and looked at Iselda.

"Is there a place where I could wash myself?" Laryll inquired.

"Yeah, there's a small stream just behind that hill", Iselda raised her arm and pointed north. "I'll lend you a towel."

Laryll nodded as thanks and the Warden caught a clean soft cloth from her tent and put it on the elf's shoulders. The redhead didn't even take her armor off before leaving.

Once Laryll had gone from Iselda's sight, the Warden frowned and her gaze hunted a certain assassin. Zevran was sitting on a log near the campfire, cleaning his daggers. That was not what Iselda wanted to see so she tramped towards him, her blond ponytail swinging back and forth.

When she reached the Antivan, the elf didn't have his usual smirk. "Yes, my dear Warden?" his voice sounded strained and he didn't look at Iselda.

"What the hell is going on? Why have you avoided her ever since we came to the camp?" Iselda scowled, her hands on her hips.

"Whatever you mean?"

Leliana gasped, Sten didn't care and Morrigan grinned when Iselda all of a sudden punched Zevran. She didn't beware of her metallic gauntlet. The elf spat fresh blood and wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, but he wasn't shocked or angry. In fact, the look on his face didn't change at all.

The one who was pissed off was Iselda. "Do not let her shut herself from the world", the Warden growled. "She's been hurt and what she now needs the most is someone with her trust."

"In case you haven't noticed, I actually have helped her", Zevran's words were hollow.

Iselda snorted. "You have treated her new injuries and stayed close to her, but what about her inner wounds? Have you tried to get inside her head?"

A hard lump rose into the Antivan's throat and he couldn't swallow it. Laryll had asked for time, and he wanted to give that to her. But which would happen first, her opening up or her pain crushing her permanently?

"Now you will get up and go to her", Iselda demanded, "or I will keep hitting you for as long as necessary. You have my permission to go and take a peek. She's more than welcome to get mad at me, you can tell her that."

There was no use arguing. Not that Zevran was going to because Iselda was absolutely right. He could never truly help Laryll if he didn't know what was going on in her mind. He should know her better than anyone and he was sure he did. The stubborn elf from his childhood was drowning herself in her anguish again, and it was up to Zevran to get Laryll speak. If he had managed to do that before, he should be able to do it now too. Laryll was the priority, he could make sense of his own feelings later.

Quietly, Zevran put the blades away and lifted himself. Iselda followed him with her strict look. No one dared to intervene. Alistair hadn't seen Iselda so annoyed before, but he could guess why she was so worried. Her own family had been murdered and it had been painful for her to talk about it, but he recalled what she had said: that the worst thing she could have done would have been to hide the truth and live with it alone, which was exactly the fate Laryll's was about to face.

"I think I owe you one", Zevran smiled and rubbed his cheek. "Next time, please don't target my face. It's too precious to get ruined."

"I expect that kind of smile on Laryll's lips when you two get back", Iselda gestured the elf to get a move on and she was obeyed.

The templar waited till the assassin couldn't hear him. "Did you just order him to peep at Laryll?"

The corners of Iselda's mouth raised in an amused sneer. "I could order you to peep through the door of my tent while I was sleeping if you wanted."

"You...oh. Well. Right. Now where did I put that delicious piece of cheese...", Alistair turned away to hide the red color on his face and began to browse the contests of his backpack.

* * *

**Notes: I just have to tell you this: next time, finally, more conversation between Iselda and Alistair. And let's not forget our two elves.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**It's the tenth chapter, wohoo! As a tiny bonus, it's a bit longer than the previous ones have been. I'm very proud of myself for having written this much in English. It has been fun, and the story is far from over.**

**Took some time to update because of the school, but there isn't overwhelming amount of work at least for now, so I should be able to keep my current speed somehow.**

**So, buckle up and enjoy.**

Stars had claimed the sky and the moon was the only source of light in the dark night. There was no wind, but the leafs of trees still made rustling sounds. Blades of grass got bent when Zevran's boots silently stomped the green ground. He wasn't sneaking, but neither did he want to jump into sight after he would have got past the low hill before him. The shadows cast by some large spruces concealed the assassin as he walked and once he saw the back of the redheaded elf near the glowing stream, he took a step behind a wide trunk.

For a while Zevran thought Laryll had heard him because she wasn't moving. She just stood there quietly in her armor, holding a white towel in her hands. It looked like her gaze was searching for something in the horizon. As a child Laryll's purple eyes created a whole new color when the moon or the sun was reflected in them. Zevran couldn't see if that would still be the case, but he was quite positive that he was right.

Finally Laryll dropped the cloth on the ground and began to open the leather straps, slowly removing the pieces of her protective gear. The assassin felt kinda bad that his friend wasn't aware of being watched. Nevertheless, he continued to stare as the redhead slipped out from her boots and placed them next to the pile which was her armor. She breathed deeply and unbuttoned her cream-colored shirt. It slid from her body, touching the cool grass and neatly she took off the rest of her clothes. She didn't bother to fold them. The fabrics were abandoned on their spots as Laryll pranced towards the stream.

Her foot made the water surface ripple and the image of the moon scattered when the elf waded forward. _She hates cold water_, Zevran remembered. Maybe that was why she wanted to get soaked fast, in order to have her naked body get used to the chilliness.

Laryll dived when her legs could still reach the bottom. The water above her soon calmed, but the reflection of the shining silver orb was yet flickering. All the birds had already sung their songs for the day, so the silent wavelet was the only sound in the serene night. Seconds passed and the seconds formed a minute. No sound, no movement, nothing.

_She will come up, right?_

Zevran bit his tongue. How could he even think about that?

He jumped a little when Laryll revealed herself all of a sudden. Her long, wet hair arched when she tossed it and water splashed all over. The liquid ran along her face, beads dripping on her breasts and continuing their trip all the way back to the stream. She blinked and gently rubbed her eyes.

For Zevran to be able to see Laryll's exposed chest the redhead had to be facing him. Which she was. She saw the Antivan.

"Zev!" Laryll shrieked and hid herself underwater, except for her head. Her arms had wrapped around her as a reflex. "You... How long you've been there?!"

"What would you like to hear?" Zevran smirked and exited the shadows. "That I actually saw nothing or that I got a very good glimpse of that beautiful body of yours?"

Laryll wanted the stream to engulf her completely.

"You are silly", the assassin laughed while taking a seat on a large stone near Laryll's clothes and armor. "I-"

"Yes yes, you have already seen me naked", Laryll snorted and turned her head. Many common traits for women could not describe her or her feelings well, but there was one thing which annoyed her, like it would annoy many other girls too, and that was her bare body not being a big issue. She knew Zevran, she was well aware that he was probably the hardest person to make embarrassed. To Laryll, it sounded like Zevran would give the same compliments to any woman, that she was not an exception.

His favorite elf, his ruby, his most important friend... How many of those words had truth in them?

Laryll winched and dived again. She curled into a ball and chewed on her lower lip, tiny bubbles escaping from her mouth. _Shit, shit, curse that shem, it is his fault I'm doubting Zev!_ The redhead was tightly pressing her eyes shut, like she was afraid of ever opening them again and more bubbles flew around her. The floating hair occasionally licked Laryll, which made her even more aghast. The _shem's_ tongue and hands, using her like a toy. No beauty, no passion, no pleasure. Only force, pain and tears.

Abruptly she was pulled up and Laryll tried to cough and gasp for air simultaneously. She was trembling from cold and shock and her lids fluttered. Finally she could see a blond elf in front of her, his face as pale as the moon staring at them. Laryll's thoughts had had such a strong hold of her that she hadn't heard the Antivan.

The naked elf's arms were being grabbed by Zevran, so nothing was cloaking her breasts. Frankly, she didn't care anymore. "I'm okay", was all Laryll could breath.

"Being underwater for almost two minutes is not what I would call okay", Zevran swept away some of the wet tresses stuck on the redhead's cheeks.

But Laryll softly moved her friend's hand. "I said I'm okay. No way a _shem_ would bring myself to harm myself-" she quickly sealed her lips and her heart began to pound violently.

Zevran managed to saw Laryll's eyes before she looked away. The color in them couldn't be described, but they clearly showed her emotions. A flame of anger, darkness of sorrow and emptiness of anxiety were all there, attempting to make the host weep. She didn't and the assassin couldn't tell was it because of her stubbornness or because Laryll didn't want Zevran to see.

Whatever the reason, he was not going to let go, especially when Iselda's words were still ringing in his head. "Look at me, Laryll", he almost begged.

"Please, Zev... Don't...", the shaking elf whispered, her gaze wandering on the water surface.

"Look at me, _mi rub__í_", Zevran sounded a bit more demanding now.

This time Laryll jerked her head up and her eyes were wide open. It made the Antivan feel like his very soul was being squeezed. To Zevran that leer would usually have meant Laryll was not ready or willing to talk and he had always took the hint. However, the eyes staring at him were filled with tears, even though the redhead's face was like stone. She was sniffling and the breeze made her teeth clatter, but she did not sob. The salty drops blended in with water.

When Zevran was about to brush Laryll's hair behind her ear, his hand stopped. A small piece of the pointy ear's tip was missing. He could notice it only now when paying attention. Then he remembered the scars he had seen on Laryll's body when he had treated her wounds. A long one on her back and an old cut on her neck had been the most distinctive. There was a scar right above her eye as well, normally partly hidden behind the hair. The assassin had a few marks of battles on his body too. He would have more if there were no healing potions or mages in the world. It looked like Laryll had never met a doctor or a healer while living in Denerim.

After a brief sigh Zevran placed his palm against Laryll's cheek and stroked it with his thumb. "Who hurt you?" If his other hand wasn't grabbing Laryll's arm, he would have clenched it from fury. Now he could only show his concern.

Laryll reacted by lifting her free arm. She reached the Antivan's face and her fingers landed on the tattoos. Slowly she trailed the black ink which got wet from water. There was a red, painful looking spot near Zevran's mouth, but Laryll ignored it. She concentrated on the curvy pattern and gave the weakest and the most artificial smile ever produced.

"Maybe I should get Dalish tattoos as well", Laryll muttered, tears still running. "Maybe that would make me even more elven."

"Damn it Laryll, you are making this so difficult...", the warm hand fell on the redhead's shoulder and then into the water and Zevran shook his head, his eyes closed.

"A _shem_ violated me", Laryll said.

Everything pretty much died around her. Trees weren't rustling anymore and an owl which had hooted once didn't dare to repeat the call. The only tiny waves in the water came from the two elves and both of them were as still as they could be. The blond one forgot to suck for air for a moment.

Unlike Laryll, Zevran was not trembling because of the cold. He was mad, distraught. The word 'violate' brought too many different meanings into his thoughts. For Laryll to have changed like this it had to be the worst case scenario and that made the assassin breathe heavily. He had to know, but now he wished that he didn't.

"I had to take my cousin's place", the naked elf continued before she could be halted, her voice on verge of breaking. "The _shem_ was not going to get her, I was not going to allow it. His filthy touch, all over me...in me..."

"Laryll, enough", Zevran interrupted. "You don't have to-"

"Yes I have to!" the redhead snapped, liquid of grief flowing and her arms splashing the water. "You wanted me to talk, so I'll talk! The whole time that bastard was abusing me, I couldn't stop thinking about you! Not even when...when he stole my first kiss." She leaned against the male and her fingers curled. "Why...", sobs made her words unclear, "why did I ever leave Antiva? For what purpose?"

_If there are gods, then I will kill every one of them one day for allowing this to happen_, the Antivan elf swore and hugged Laryll firmly. Someone roared and cried inside him while he had buried his face into the damp field of crimson, which still had a trace of red apples scent in it. When Cyrion had adopted Laryll, Zevran had been doing his best at convincing himself that his friend was lucky, that the new life away from the smell of Antivan leather would make her happy. If the assassin had knew what sorts of pain were waiting for Laryll, he would have never let her go when he had embraced her for the last time in their home country.

There was no way to undo what had been done. All Zevran could do was to hold Laryll and not release her this time. The redhead's small fists pressed the assassin's armor, but all her strength was being drained by her weeping. Sometimes Zevran heard Laryll mumble 'that bastard' or 'why', but didn't say anything. Instead, he started to hum quietly. It was the same familiar tune he had hummed over and over again.

Laryll's shaking lessened and her sobs had longer pauses between them. Her body wasn't so stiff now, but she didn't relax her hands. The moist, bluish lips looked like they were searching for the melody her ears had picked up.

"_Fly fly, up to the sky... Run run, through the galaxy_...", Laryll sung, Zevran's humming as her accompaniment.

The Antivan glanced the moon and the bright light was able to evoke a fresh, hidden tear which quickly rolled down his cheek. He swallowed and placed a soft kiss on top of Laryll's head. His hands were not going to let go.

0-0-0-0-0

Zevran had persuaded Laryll to walk to the shore with him in order to avoid getting a flu. The redhead had stopped crying, but remained wordless. Though she was pleasant to look upon, Zevran did not use the chance but just led Laryll, supporting her so that she wouldn't trip because of her feeble legs.

Once their feet touched the dry grass, the assassin grabbed the towel and the clothes near the stone on which he had sat earlier and handed them to Laryll. The elf forced her hands to quit shivering, promptly dried herself and put on her trousers and shirt, not worrying about the underwear. She looked better, but her eyes were still quite empty and her sight was not targeted at anything specific. Her finger was twitching as she held the white towel close to her chest, not sure what to do with it.

Zevran sighed and sat down. "Come here", he gave his hand to Laryll, who was too puzzled to think a way to reject the offer, so she obeyed.

After Laryll had seated herself in front of the other elf, Zevran snatched the piece of cloth from her hands and wrapped it, along with his arms, around her. The Antivan's legs lightly pressed Laryll's sides, providing more warmth than the wet towel. Some color returned to the redhead's face when she blushed. It felt like being in a nest, except this one was much more embarrassing, yet more caring and warmer, despite the male being wet. Laryll noticed how the chills she had felt vanished, leaving her comfortable.

"Are you alright?" Zevran asked.

The warmth had been so pleasant that Laryll had almost forgotten the assassin's presence, not to mention the fact that he was as close as a person could be. She didn't quite understand the question, so she just nodded and let out a faint, complying sound.

For some time the elves didn't speak. Zevran wanted to listen Laryll breathing to see if she had calmed down. He was relieved. The worst form of panic seemed to have left his friend alone and she was not trembling. Now he only hoped that he would be given a verbal confirmation.

"I feel better", Laryll said, granting the Antivan's wish. "Not great but...better."

Zevran smiled a little and fixed the position of his legs.

"I'm sorry for attacking you."

_She was thinking about that?_ Zevran glanced at his arm where Laryll – no, the demon – had cut him with the dagger. Not even a scar had been left as an evidence. Right after entering the Wardens' camp Bodahn, the dwarf merchant, had given health potions for those who needed them, including the assassin. The curative drink had done its job well.

"It wasn't you", Zevran tightened his grip and leaned his forehead against the back of Laryll's head. "Don't worry about it."

"I tried so hard", Laryll bemoaned, "so hard to fight back. I saw all of you, and even though I wanted to let Alistair or someone knock me out, my body just moved on its own."

"Soon we'll be able to take care of the spirit. There's no need to blame yourself." The corner of the assassin's mouth raised momentarily. "Besides, if you ever were to attack me out of your own will, I probably would deserve it."

A weak chuckle from the redhead made the lump in Zevran's throat disappear. If Laryll responded to jokes already, then maybe he wouldn't have to wait for long to witness the cheerful, natural laugh he had been longing for.

Then Laryll lowered her head, the chin almost touching her chest. Few chills crept through her spine again when there was a wavering image of Vaughan in her thoughts. Exposing the disgraceful secret had been the toughest thing she had ever done and the anger which had come with it wasn't planned. Although Laryll hadn't indented to talk about the matter yet, her mind had been changed when she had seen Zevran's gaze. She knew her friend wouldn't have left her before getting the truth. Laryll couldn't remember much details of her childhood except the most precious times with Zevran, but the eyes the Antivan had when he had asked to look at him were unforgettable. The same eyes which had always made sure that not a single one of things troubling Laryll was kept hidden from the assassin.

"Do you think I'm dirty?" she needed to know because she felt so ashamed. "Is it disgusting to touch me?"

"I'm touching you now without complaining, am I not?" Zevran reminded. "You will never be so dirty that I wouldn't stay near you, not even if the Maker himself were to dump the contents of his bathtub over you."

"That's...nasty", Laryll grinned, but her grin turned into a smile. The _shem_ was gone from her head and she had lifted her chin to look at the water. There, in that stream, she had gained enough courage and now her strength was gradually coming back. Fear of Zevran treating her differently had been pointless to harbor. He still made her lips curve up and protected her. More importantly, he could touch her.

Her concealed hand moved to the breast pocket on her shirt and identified Nelaros' ring. She had sewn the pocket shut, so that the memento wouldn't be lost. You couldn't feel or notice the item through the armor, but just before going to sleep Laryll would check if it was safe.

The reason why she had reached for the ring was because there was something which preoccupied her. "Can I ask you one thing, Zev?" she stared at the glow mirroring from the calm water.

"Go ahead, my favorite elf", the assassin replied.

Laryll formed the right words in her head before speaking with care. "How many...partners have you had since I left Antiva?"

Zevran gulped. "That's...pretty straight, even from you."

"I've learned from a certain, seductive elf."

The silence fell and lingered for a while. Due to the horrible events Laryll had experienced, Zevran did not expect her to ask about such a matter. He had always accepted what had to be done during his assassin training and as a Crow. However, when he took a glimpse of Laryll, he sensed regret in him.

How unfair it was that her first kiss had been taken by a brutal monster.

It was rare for the Antivan to become speechless. "I'm not certain what to say so that you wouldn't be hurt", Zevran hesitated and his thumb brushed Laryll's arm.

Suddenly the redhead twisted her body and she faced the blond elf, the purple eyes piercing him. "Would I ask if I knew the answer would break me?" her voice was firm. "To my understanding, we are both adults now. You can trust me, just like I've trusted you today."

_Don't I believe in her?_ Zevran wondered. Laryll had almost been crushed by her pain, yet she had found the power to open up. The assassin had more or less ordered his friend to talk to him, so it was only fair that he would do the same. Plus there was no escaping the gaze aimed at him.

Zevran sighed. "Not really partners or lovers, but I had to quite often, ah, seduce my targets in order to make them vulnerable. Nearly every Crow does that. In addition, I've had some one night stands, but nothing permanent."

"Sounds like the eavesdropping you did on the ladies of the Dusk finally paid off", Laryll smirked.

Zevran couldn't help but laugh, but then he looked stunned. "This really does not bother you?"

"Should it?" Laryll tilted her head. "I would never get mad at you for simply living."

"Not even if I told you not all of them were women?"

Laryll frowned. "You think that would make me think less of you? By the gods, Creators, whatever are watching over us, you are you, Zev. I like you the way you are, no matter your past."

"Like me, huh?" the Antivan couldn't resist and lifted his eyebrow.

He grinned when Laryll was left open-mouthed and she hid her blush behind the red hair, muttering to herself. It was tempting to return those words back at Laryll, but something squeezed his soul again. Whatever it was, it was aware of what the elf desired, but did not permit him to get it. The redhead couldn't see how Zevran's eyes widened briefly before he slightly shook his head.

"I haven't thanked you properly yet", Laryll's sweet, usual voice released the assassin from the clash of his thoughts. "You know, for taking care of me and making me talk. I'm sorry I shut myself from you."

To close Laryll's mouth, Zevran put his finger on her lips. "No apologies", he stated.

The message was received and Laryll nodded. She was a bit surprised at herself for not getting jealous or sad because of her friend's history with women. Or men. Perhaps she had grown up after all and wasn't that little girl clinging to Zevran anymore. She couldn't have known how good it was going to feel to have some weight removed from her shoulders. She felt whole for the first time since the episode in Denerim.

The assassin saw the change in Laryll. The shining orbs looking at him had reclaimed their light and were bursting with life. It was hard to believe that this was the same elf who had been so broken and distressed earlier. Would even a phoenix bother to arise after so much pain?

Laryll took the towel covering her and dropped it on ground. "Even if you were willing to sit here to warm me up for all night, I would really prefer the campfire. You are almost as soaked as I am, minus the hair of course."

"My friend, you have no idea how long it took to make a perfect braid", Zevran chuckled and rose up. He gave his hand to Laryll, whose legs were a little wobbly, but she managed.

"Can I braid your hair tomorrow?" she requested.

"Only if you promise me to return to the camp with a smile on your face. Otherwise the female Warden is going to hit me with that huge sword of hers this time."

The redhead kissed her fingertip and put it against the small bruise which had been made by Iselda's gauntlet. Her smile was normal, not a hint of force behind it. She turned her reddened face away and went to grab her armor.

_She's my ruby_, the assassin smirked and the spot on his face was tingling from Laryll's stroke.

0-0-0-0-0

Iselda was satisfied when she saw Laryll. The elf had just laughed at one of Zevran's jokes and the Warden could get a glimpse of that happy face. When the Antivan noticed the human, Iselda winked at him and put away the journal she had been writing. Then she gestured her new companions to join her at the fire and the elves agreed.

The towel Iselda had borrowed was handed back to her and she wrinkled her brow. "You were supposed to dry yourself with this, so why are you, and your clothes, wet? Sit down before you catch a cold. And you", her gaze moved to Zevran, "to my knowledge people tend to bathe naked, so what's with the soaked armor?"

"You should try it sometime, dear Warden", the assassin sneered and swept some dust from a wooden log so that Laryll could seat herself. "Though I'm afraid that there would be a lot of floundering with that heavy scale mail of yours."

Iselda's laugh was loud. "I'm pretty good swimmer, but let's pray there's another way to reach the Circle Tower." She leaned against her knees and pushed herself up. "Sten has the first watch, so I'm going to bed. I recommend you two change your clothes, take your bedrolls and sleep next to the campfire. I think it's not going to rain tonight." With that, she yawned while walking and entered her tent.

The qunari was sitting on a stump beside his tent, sharpening his two-handed sword and not paying attention to the others. Sleep was calling for Laryll and before her eyes would close, Zevran poked her and suggested her to to as the Warden had said. She thanked him and went to get a clean shirt and trousers, plus the bedroll. There were not enough words to thank Iselda for buying all this stuff for her. When she came back, she spread the sleeping bag on the grass near the source of heat and glared at the Antivan.

"No peeking", she demanded.

"Why? I like the view", Zevran grinned as he was taking off his armor.

Laryll groaned and slipped deep into the bedroll, ensuring that she wasn't seen. Inside, she undressed and quickly put on the new clothes. Her crimson tresses were all messed up when she revealed herself again. She kept glaring and placed the wet fabrics on a stone close to her.

Zevran was holding his snicker. "_Mi rub__í_ is so sensitive", he teased and stripped his white shirt, which was sticky because of water.

_By the holy angels, he's so handsome_, Laryll stared, her cheeks looking like she had a fever.

When the assassin glanced at her, she whimpered and found herself in her sleeping bag faster than she had previously. Her heart was creating a fresh speed record. The urge to take another look was strong, but no way she could. _We are both adults_, she recalled her own words and made every effort to hide her face better.

A shadow cast over the redhead and a touch of hand made Laryll flinch, but after that she stayed still. The hand gently tousled her hair and she eased up, breaths turning back to normal.

"_Dulces sueñ__os, mi querida_", said the familiar, Antivan voice and the sound of footsteps receded.

Finally sleep was able to catch Laryll and she was cradled by Zevran's voice, which still echoed in her ears.

0-0-0-0-0

_What is that? It's huge and...scary. So majestic and powerful. But it reeks of evil and grief. Is it some kind of spirit? A demon?_

_ Those wings look like they could cause tornadoes. A single sweep of that spiky tail could crush an army of men. Its claws... By the Maker, you can't describe those as claws. They're like sharp spikes of ice which can't be shattered. It's digging them into the stone beneath it._

_ And what about its jaws? Those teeth are stained with blood and some of them stick out horribly. Its breath stinks of death and sorrow. The roaring is piercing my ears and twisting my guts. Stop that, please!_

_ Oh no. It heard me. It's staring directly at me. No. Go away. I don't want to look into those eyes. I don't want to see the reflection of my fear. Go away. Go away! Argh, my ears!_

0-0-0-0-0

Iselda jerked herself up fiercely and panted. Dog was whining beside her, wanting to help its master. A few drops of cool sweat still dripped from her forehead, falling on her clenched fist. It was dark outside, so the sun hadn't risen yet. The Warden sighed and kicked off her blanket. The mabari She felt a chill in her spine, but it was only because of the dream she had. Because of the dragon in it.

She rubbed her eyes and opened the door of her tent, followed by her pet. The fire was dancing calmly, keeping the two sleeping elves near it warm and drying their equipment. Iselda nearly mistook Laryll's hair to be part of the flames. Smiling to herself, she saw Alistair talking to Bodahn who had already woken up. The templar handed a lot of coins to the dwarf and excused himself when his gaze met Iselda's.

"Want to have my watch or couldn't you just sleep?" Alistair had his hopes high.

"The latter, unfortunately", the female Warden said, and smiled at the templar's disappointed reaction. "Judging from the amount of money you gave Bodahn he's going to restock at the Tower, isn't he?"

Alistair nodded. "What a better place to buy magical items and lyrium potions than mages' home, right?"

He was correct, although Iselda didn't consider the Circle being a home. It was just a hiding place for mages, where the real templars kept them on a short leash. She didn't hate the order, but did not approve their methods. If she was a mage, she would take her chances as an apostate rather than to be locked in the Tower. Were it for her to decide, she would at least allow the inhabitants to leave their prison for once in a while. They were not criminals, but were treated as such.

"What made you abandon your sleep?" Alistair asked when the Wardens were walking through the camp.

"A dream", Iselda watched her feet. "There was an enormous dragon, black as the void itself and full of hate." She paused and lifted her eyes to meet the other Warden. "Was that the Archdemon?"

"Yes", Alistair sounded like he had wished that wasn't the truth. "When you join the Wardens, you're going to see the Archdemon in your dreams. Not every night, but that's not very soothing."

"Are there any other surprises waiting for me?"

For a moment Alistair scratched his chin and looked thoughtful. Then he smirked at Iselda. "Well, if you haven't realized it already, then I should probably warn you that the Wardens have bigger appetite."

That made Iselda snort. "Are you telling me I'm eating more?"

"That's only normal, though I'm beginning to wonder if the Joining made your stomach bottomless."

A playful, yet quite painful jab from the female Warden's elbow quieted the templar, who did not get pity even from Dog. The both humans snickered and hushed so that the others wouldn't wake up from the noise, which only made them laugh more.

Iselda wiped a tear of joy from her eye and looked at Alistair. "It's good to see you like this", she grinned, but kept a serious tone in her voice. "How are you holding up?"

"Dealing, like I should", Alistair knew his friend meant Duncan's death. The fallen Warden had saved him from the fate of becoming a templar by recruiting him. The battle at Ostagar had taken Duncan's life, thanks to Loghain's treachery. "Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one mourning him, even though he accomplished so much. I would like him to get a proper burial, but we have more pressing matters at hand."

"He was a great man, and he will be missed", Iselda landed her hand on Alistair's shoulder. "Remember the message we got from soldiers who went to look for survivors in Ostagar?"

Alistair's eyes dimmed. "Yeah. They had found Duncan's and the King's bodies."

"I sent a reply to them. I begged their commander to hold the bodies till the Blight has ended. So that we can give both of them honorable funeral, with no taint staining the ground."

Looking straight at Iselda, Alistair was amazed. He hadn't had any idea about the plea and had believed that the soldiers had already made graves for the Warden Commander and King Cailan. Moisture began to gather in his eyes, but he refused the tears and smiled instead.

"Thank you", he said. "I won't forget your kindness."

"Can I call you 'my prince' every now and then as a repayment?" Iselda's lashes were fluttering.

"Maybe you should first explain the reason behind that title to our new friends before using it", Alistair laughed a little. "Who knows what they would think of our relationship if you didn't."

Iselda patted the templar's armored chest. "Relationship, hmm?" She giggled and left the blushing Warden's company, heading to get some dried meat for breakfast from her tent.

Slowly the red faded from Alistair's face and he watched the female Warden's prancing. He was used to see the swinging blond hair tied into a ponytail, but now it was flying freely. The usual scale mail wasn't concealing her figure and she seemed to enjoy how easy it was to move without all the gear.

He wished that despite the unpleasant start as a Warden Iselda would become happy. The thought of seeing more of this side of her – cheerful, funny, caring – was alluring. The darkspawn and their leader had to be slayed soon. Alistair wanted to see Iselda relax like this somewhere else than the camp, too.

* * *

**Notes: _Dulces suenos = Sweet dreams _(stupid editor can't create that Spanish n -letter with a tiny wave atop of it)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Gah, took a while due to the schoolwork. Well, not entirely, my Xbox had something to do with it, too.**

**I may be able to start the next chapter during the weekend. On the next week I have to complete an assignment, but the half-term begins soon after that, which means I'll have a lot of time to continue the story (plus maybe study a bit, maybe).**

**So, grab a glass of juice or soda and enjoy.**

"Your eyes are sharper, like you are more focused than usual."

"Huh?" Laryll was careful not to spit out crumbles of the piece of bread she was eating while giving a wondering look at the templar.

"Plus I think this is the first time I've seen you gobble food with as good appetite as Iselda's."

The elf swallowed quickly and glared. The matter was left at that and Alistair's armor clinked when he rose up and fled. Laryll watched as the templar reached his tent and picked up his equipment. The first thing the redhead had heard once waking up had been the sound of a whetstone, followed by squeaking which had come from the cloth Alistair had used to wipe his sword.

As soon as Laryll was done with her meal, she decided to check her own daggers. One of them had a stain of blood. _Zev's blood_, she recognized as she ran her finger along the red line. Her friend hadn't been angry or upset like she had assumed he would be. Most of the guilt inside her had vanished and she was able to meet the assassin's eyes without feeling fear and agony.

Laryll used the hem of her shirt to erase the stain and seemed to like the results. She had put her armor on earlier and finished her gear by strapping the weapons on her back and fastening the clasp of her cloak.

_More focused._

"Ready to infiltrate the Circle Tower I see", Zevran sneered behind Laryll. To his disappointment, the elf wasn't spooked.

"You're the one who was already dressed in leathers while I was drifting back from the dreamworld", Laryll snorted and caught a glimpse of Iselda and Morrigan over the assassin's shoulder. "Do you know what they are talking about?" she nodded her head at the women.

"The Warden?" Zevran shifted. "She has been trying to persuade our witch to accompany us to the Tower, but has had no luck. It looks like we are going without a mage by our side."

The idea was not appealing, but it couldn't be helped. Morrigan was an apostate, so no wonder she was not eager to enter a building full of templars. The party's plan was to get help for Connor and ask for the mages' aid for the Blight, so maybe they could accomplish such tasks without having a need for spells this time.

Laryll sighed. "Well, fewer people attracts less attention, right? It's not like we're going to the Tower to start a war or anything."

"Let's hope they won't get the wrong idea, then", the Antivan laughed and ruffled his friend's hair.

Before Zevran could react, Laryll took his hand and held it inside her curled fingers. She was silent for a while and her gaze wandered on the ground. "I have thanked you and apologized many times already", she finally said, "but it is important to me that you know. Because of you, I don't feel weak anymore. I'm tired, but in a good way and all the fatigue I have can be taken care of with rest. That wasn't possible before."

"Sorry that you almost got a flu when you helped me", Laryll added with a smile, but her warm cheeks prevented her from raising her head.

Zevran was more than pleased. The path had been painful, bloody and full of tears, but at last he could see Laryll as the adult he had always imagined she would become. She would carry the suffering for the rest of her life with her, but it ought to be easier now because she had shared it with Zevran.

The assassin would never judge the redhead for crying, but he wished that he wouldn't have to see the sad, liquid-filled eyes again. The emptiness he had noticed in them had made his insides twist and he'd rather not experience that for second time.

To release Laryll from her embarrassment, Zevran grabbed a snippet of string from his pouch and turned Laryll's palm up in order to place the item on it. He was given a questioning stare.

"I promised you, _mi rub__í_", smirked the Antivan and tapped his head with one finger.

A short gasp showed that Laryll had realized what her friend meant. She touched Zevran's loose hair and looked at him. "Can I? Really?"

"Just remember that if I'm not satisfied, you'll have to start the braid over", came a chuckling response.

0-0-0-0-0

Everyone's hoods got a bit wet from the small drizzle, but it didn't hinder their trip. The whole party traveled together before reaching the Tower. Morrigan constantly reminded that once she could see the prison of mages in the horizon, she would not go further. Iselda had accepted that, having seen no point in arguing.

They had to go around the lake in order to get on the right road. No bandits or monsters attacked them during all the days the party had to spend to get to the Circle. Not once did the sun bother to show itself, but at least the nights were dry so that a campfire could be lit. Sometimes Leliana would sing before going to sleep, and that was enough to brighten the gloomy weather.

More time passed and Laryll was beginning to think that they were lost, even though Alistair assured her that as long as the lake was next to them, there was no chance of missing the Tower. Her feet believed the walking was in vain and she was hungry again.

Suddenly Iselda halted and signaled the others to do the same. There was a hill ahead and on top of it some kind of gate made of stone. But it was the looming structure in the distance which made Morrigan narrow her eyes.

"There it is", Alistair told Laryll and pointed at the Tower.

The mage turned her head at Iselda, who nodded in agreement. "Bodahn said that there should be an inn nearby", she started to look around and saw a fragile cloud of smoke. "I'm taking Alistair with me, better have the both Wardens present. And Laryll", she glanced the elf, "I'd like you and Zevran to accompany me too."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Leliana showed a hint of concern, not being aware of their new companions' abilities. The daggers suggested they fought like rogues, from shadows and with finesse, but if there was going to be problems, was the Tower an ideal place for that kind of fighting style?

Iselda smiled. "Were it possible, I would take all of you, but that wouldn't be wise. And, if I want Laryll to come, I guess a certain Antivan elf is bound to join her."

"Actually, she's Antivan, too", Zevran gestured at the redhead.

Before Iselda could open her mouth, she just lifted her eyebrow and gave a curious 'oh' sound. Laryll had mentioned that she lived in Denerim, if the Warden's memory was still intact.

"Really?" the templar was quite shocked and looked at Laryll. "But you don't have the accent. No offense, of course."

"None taken", Laryll smirked. "I spent my early childhood in Antiva with Zev and his mother before Cyrion...my father adopted me."

_That explains some of her behavior_, Iselda thought. It must have been many years since these two elves had met each other until now. Even though Laryll seemed like she had won against the pain which obviously had made her distracted and silent, she hadn't been able to talk to the assassin right away. Iselda was quite sure it wasn't only because of whatever had happened to her, it had to do something with the long parting too. If it were the Warden, she wouldn't be so certain to expose her secrets to a friend she hadn't met in ages. The person could have different morals, could have a whole new opinion of her, could have entirely changed.

Perhaps she was over-rendering the matter. There was light radiating from Laryll which was something Iselda saw for the first time. The elf was smiling and relaxed, so the Warden stopped worrying about the past and trusted that Zevran would take care of Laryll.

She marched forward and recommended the others to follow her. Once the party was standing on top of the hill, they saw a single templar near the dock. Morrigan snorted and started to walk towards the inn. With a grunt Sten joined the witch and after Leliana had asked Iselda to be careful, she trotted away too. It went without saying that Dog wouldn't leave its master's side.

The templar at the dock was watching the Wardens and luckily didn't get suspicious of Morrigan. Iselda greeted him and approached.

"Evening, my lady", the templar bowed a little. "What brings four well-armed people here?"

"My name is Iselda Cousland", Iselda answered and dug up a piece of paper from her black leather pouch. "Me and my friend here, Alistair, are Grey Wardens. The mages of the Circle are obliged to aid us in the Blight according to this contract." She handed the document over.

The man read the paper quickly and sighed. "I'm sorry, but the mages can't help you now. They are not allowed to leave the Tower because of...a situation."

"What are you talking about?" Alistair inquired while the templar returned the document to Iselda, who was giving a glare.

"I don't know the details, but the Knight-Commander Gregoir has locked the place down. He said something about abominations and demons, so my guess is that some of the mages have gone wild."

"How will you solve the problem then?" Laryll stepped forward, rubbing her arms because of cold.

"The Knight-Commander is not going to let the mages out if there's a chance they are possessed by demons", the templar's gaze was strict. "He's waiting for more troops to handle the inhabitants with him. I'm supposed to transport the men once they arrive with this", his thumb pointed at a wooden boat beside him which was tied to the dock with a rope.

"By handle you mean kill, no?" Zevran crossed his arms.

Laryll's eyes widened and she moved so close to the soldier that her chest almost touched his. "They can't do that based on such a fragile information", she waved at the Tower. "Someone has to go there and investigate before your comrades begin to murder people who might be innocent!"

Never had Laryll seen an unsure templar until now. The man looked stunned, like he was questioning his earlier words. In the alienage the templars didn't show pity and some of them mocked the elves, even her. Meeting Alistair and this young human hadn't made Laryll trust their order more, but at least she now knew that there were exceptions.

Iselda smirked. "You should listen to my friend. She's definitely not going to back off before you'll take us to the Circle."

"Plus your boss wouldn't like it if he received a word of two Wardens having been ordered to turn back without his consent", Alistair pointed out.

The uneasy templar scratched his head and crouched to untie the boat's rope. "Hop on", he said in defeated voice. "You should talk to the Knight-Commander about this, not me."

"Much appreciated", Laryll grinned and took a seat on the boat.

The assassin sat next to his elven friend and whispered 'well done' into her ear.

0-0-0-0-0

The Tower was bigger than Laryll had estimated from the shore. It looked dark and ominous at this hour, especially when there weren't many lights lit inside. The surface of lake Calenhad began to ripple not only because of the boat but also due to the drops of water falling from gray clouds.

The party managed to get inside the Tower before the rain was able to get them soaked. Laryll wanted to remove her wet cloak, but she figured it would be a lot colder without it. The templar who had escorted them showed which of the soldiers was the Knight-Commander. He had to return to the dock to wait for the requested reinforcements so he excused himself and left.

Iselda didn't waste any more time admiring, or despising, the Tower. Gregoir had been staring at her and her company for a while now. "Knight-Commander, I assume?" she smiled at the heavy-armored man as her heels clacked against the stone floor.

"Yes", Gregoir replied bluntly. "I'm sorry if I sound rude, but we've got a serious situation at the Circle right now, so I would rather hear a short version of the nature of your business here."

"Abominations and demons making you so irritated?" the right corner of Zevran's mouth lifted.

The Knight-Commander frowned. "I see one of my men has already told you about the problem. Well then, I can't but wonder what still made you come here."

Alistair was sure that Laryll was going to pierce Gregoir with her gaze just like she had done with the other templar earlier, but to his surprise she was just rubbing her hands together and shooing the assassin who offered to warm her, with an amused grin on his face of course. The Warden turned to Iselda who didn't seem pleased of Gregoir behavior. Her reaction was expected. There was a Blight to fight and all these templars cared about was to ensure a few possibly possessed mages couldn't escape. Imagine what that would do to the order's reputation.

"Maybe you haven't heard the news, but a Blight has begun and armies of darkspawn are destroying Ferelden as we speak", Iselda abandoned all courtesies. "The mages have to help the Wardens and locking down the Tower won't change that."

"If you wish to work with demons, then sure, go ahead and take the mages with you", Gregoir scoffed. "Just remember that the blood of all the lives they are going to end will be on your hands."

The words almost made Alistair snap from anger. "Threatening her like that won't get us nowhere", his voice came out strong, and when he noticed that, he took a moment to breathe. "Not everyone inside could have turned into an abomination. Let us search for survivors."

"If you go in, you are doomed", Gregoir said. "I have sent a word to Denerim to ask a permission for the Right of Annulment and once I'll receive a positive response, the Tower will be purged. It's unlikely there's anyone alive and all the demons must be killed."

Iselda grit her teeth while Laryll winced. The elf had heard about the Right which basically permitted templars to kill every single mage they encountered at a Circle, innocent or not, young and old, novices and masters. It was just like her fugitive friend from the alienage had told her: the Right of Annulment and being made tranquil were one of the worst fates a mage could meet.

Would humans really kill each other so senselessly, only because they are afraid? Elves always stuck together, under every circumstances. Iselda and her human friends had good intentions and they didn't resort to violence in order to achieve their goals, even if the enemies were frightening and the odds were not in their favor. So why would a group of men in plate mails get consumed by fear?

"This is ridiculous, _shem_", Laryll snarled and her hair flew when she hurried to the double doors leading to the first floor, a curious Antivan elf right behind her.

"What in the Maker's name are you doing?" Gregoir gasped and watched as the redhead dropped on one knee and began to examine the lock on the door.

A templar guarding the entrance readied his weapon, but got stopped by Gregoir's command. The Wardens exchanged glances and Alistair shrugged.

Laryll got up and glared at the Knight-Commander. "Zev, pick that lock", she said, her body totally still. "I doubt our friend here will give us the key."

"You think you're allowed to do that, elf?" Gregoir growled and his eyes were full of fire. "My authority is enough to arrest you if you attempt to break into the Tower!"

"She's with the Grey Wardens, so you cannot do that", Iselda stepped between Laryll and Gregoir. "Or are you willing to involve the rest of the Wardens because of this? I think it would be for the best if we were the only ones aware of what has happened at the Circle and I promise you not to leak any information outside if you'll let us in the Tower. As a bonus, we will take care of all the demons inside."

_The tables have turned_, Alistair had a victorious sneer. He didn't feel sorry for the templars, though he also bore no sympathy towards abominations. The corrupted mages had to be slain and if the party could save at least a couple of people, then denying the Knight-Commander's order would be worth it.

Gregoir paced and grumbled. A conflict with the Wardens' order would be problematic and preventing them from doing their main duty would escalate things. "You won't find anything but bodies", his eyes met Iselda's. "Killing all the demons is no small feat and I can't guarantee your safety. Yet you're willing to go in, aren't you?"

"We have to", Iselda said determinedly. "The Blight cannot be stopped without the mages." She was thankful for Laryll's little act. Because of it, the Warden seemed to have Gregoir's full attention now, like he and the other templars had woken up to the reality.

The Knight-Commander took a deep breath. He figured only one way to solve this complicated issue. "All right. If you can find the First Enchanter, Irving, then bring him here. If he says the Tower is clear, then I'll believe his word. If he's dead or you remain inside for too long and the Right of Annulment is granted, every mage dies."

"Very well", Iselda nodded to Gregoir's shock and took a step back. "After you", she gestured at the door.

The Knight-Commander sighed and took his clinging keys. The hinges creaked and the elves were the first to enter the hallway. Just when Iselda was about to follow, Gregoir put his metallic hand on her shoulder.

"Remember, the doors stay locked and barred until I hear Irving's voice. They won't open even if you pounded them with your fists."

The Warden didn't give any kind of look. She rolled her eyes as soon as the templar couldn't see her face and caught up with the others. A loud thump behind her made some loose pages on floor twirl for a second.

Zevran shook his head glimpsed the place he had ended up in. "Am I the only one who thinks our plan sucks?" he noted.

0-0-0-0-0

It was too quiet. There were a lot of rooms with no people in them. Chairs and tables had been knocked over and books had fallen from the shelves. Laryll saw a plate full of decaying food and a glass of water. It seemed like all the mages had just abandoned whatever they had been doing and fled. No corpses were lying on the floor, but the stench in the air was pungent.

Iselda leafed through some documents she found, but there were no clues of what was going on. Even the Knight-Commander hadn't provided any useful details, although he had been more interested in solving the matter as quickly as possible and with force. The Warden snorted in frustration and told the others they should move on.

Alistair was about to open a door at the end of the hallway, but his hand stopped when he heard noises from the other side. Silently he called out Iselda, who then could hear the sounds, too. Alistair volunteered to go first, and the other Warden nodded in approval. The elves were ready to sneak into shadows in the next room if there was going to be a fight.

Right after the templar had turned the door's handle, he could see a flaming demon getting destroyed by a powerful magical spell. The creature's dying roar reached everyone's ears and they rushed in. The first thing Laryll saw was a couple of children, shielded by a brown-haired woman whose staff indicated that she was a mage. Iselda's attention however was at an old, white-haired woman whose fingers were still sparkling from energy. The mage didn't let her guard down when she faced the Warden.

"Who are you?" her gentle voice asked and right after the question her mouth opened in surprise. "You... Aren't you two the Wardens from Ostagar?"

"It's okay", Iselda assured Laryll and the assassin, who were about to draw their daggers, but relaxed their hands due to the Warden's interruption. "I'm glad to find you here, Wynne."

"Likewise", the tired mage grinned, but only for a moment. "I would love to hear how you survived the battle, but maybe that can wait."

Iselda shut her eyes briefly and yanked herself back from the memories of Ostagar. It was obvious the Circle, Wynne's home, was in trouble, but the Blight was not going to slow down. "We need the mages' help for the Blight. At Ostagar you gave me an advice to watch myself, that the threat we faced there was just the beginning. I'm sorry to say that you were right. That's why we're here, to ask for your aid."

"Though I suppose things aren't going to go so smoothly with the Tower locked down and all", Alistair sighed.

The old mage lowered her head. "Gregoir must be thinking we are all dead or have turned into abominations. One of us begged the templars to let the children out, but they wouldn't open the door." Then her gaze rose. "But I believe there's a reason he opened it for you."

"Well, assuming demons won't finish us off, we are to save the First Enchanter and take care of possible resistance on our way", Zevran stated, still not comfortable with the plan. He was not a fan of storming place full of unknown. It was an exact opposite of his assassin work.

"Irving?" Wynne looked relieved. "Yes, if anyone was still alive in the Tower, it would be him." After a short breath she continued. "Some of us wanted to start a rebellion, led by a mage named Uldred. I'm not sure what went wrong, but several mages began to act differently and eventually they were possessed by demons, which they probably had summoned under Uldred's command."

"Uldred?" Iselda repeated the name, until she remembered. "Wasn't he in Ostagar?"

"Yes, and when he returned, he had changed. He ranted about how we should oppose the templars and take the Circle for ourselves. The outcome of his foolishness may be the cause of this situation."

Uldred and Iselda hadn't talked much in Ostagar. He had asked to be left alone and the Warden hadn't wished to disturb him further. Iselda had had a bad feeling about the man already back then. No-one knew the mage well, so something big had to be involved for him to get so many mages on his side.

"The Knight-Commander will stand down only if the First Enchanter says the Circle is safe", Iselda explained. "Otherwise he will order his men inside and a lot of blood will be spilled."

With a concerned look on her face, the mage glanced at the young ones, who were wiping away their tears. She had hoped Gregoir wouldn't consider purging the Tower, but now she became aware that they were out of time. The Warden didn't have to mention the Right of Annulment, Wynne already knew it was a possibility.

The thought of a chance to avoid unnecessary massacre made her brace herself. "I will do anything so that the kids will come to no harm and if that means climbing the Tower in search for Irving, then I am more than prepared."

"You would help us?" Laryll asked, not sure should she trust the new human or not. The mage reminded her of Valendrian, but the only human mages she had met had been Morrigan and Connor and the experience with them had been anything but ideal.

Wynne smiled. "I have lived at the Circle for the most of my life, so I am a perfect guide. Besides, we don't know what sorts of evil we're going to encounter, so I imagine my healing abilities would be more than welcome."

Thinking about how hurt Laryll had got and there had been no healer present, Zevran couldn't agree more with Wynne.

Alistair shifted his gaze from the mage to a blue magical barrier, which was blocking the doorway leading to stairs. His wondering was soon noticed by Wynne, who instructed the few mages with the children to be careful and protect the young at any cost. After that she walked towards the barrier and stared at it for a while, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"So many dead", she wailed, her head hanging in desperation. "And so many are going to still die if we don't hurry. I'm disappointed with myself for not being able to save more lives."

"You did everything you could, Wynne", Iselda said while looking at the barrier, amazed at how strong it had been.

With a quick movement of her hands, Wynne dispelled the magical shield and gestured the party to move forward. Before she joined them, she detached a blue potion from her belt and gulped it. Alistair immediately felt how the mage was full of mana, the energy needed in order to cast spells. Wynne put away the empty bottle and as soon as she had left the room, she erected the barrier again, making it even more durable than earlier.

She sighed and glanced the stairs before her. "We should go, Irving's life depends on us."

Laryll couldn't stop her finger from twitching when the awful stench worsened after every step she took at the second floor.

* * *

**Notes: Laryll's stronger side is slowly getting revealed. She's even more saucy than Iselda when needed to be, hah. We'll soon see how she does in a fight.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Finished my first assignment at school and sadly I was quite disappointed with it. Luckily it was only a presentation of the actual thing we're supposed to do in our groups (a radio show), so I'll put more effort in making the show better than the presentation would have indicated.**

**This chapter has the action I so much love. Not the whole chapter of course, heh. The focus is mostly on our elves, but don't worry, our Wardens are going to get to fight a lot too.**

**Grab your gear, it's Laryll time! (Didn't sound even half as good as Adventure Time...)**

Laryll winced when she saw a body on the floor. The sight was not new for her, but it was the human's face which made her nose wrinkle. The mouth was gaping and full of blood. His eyes had rolled up and it seemed like this human had been screaming of pain before he died. He wore a templar uniform, so his fate had probably been sealed by a powerful mage. A mage who clearly had intended the human to suffer before dying.

The elf tore her gaze away from the corpse and followed the others. Wynne said they should reach one of the libraries soon. Irving's office wasn't far from there and his room was the best place to start their search for him. Laryll wasn't sure what to think of the old mage, though due to the situation she wasn't going to drop her guard even when among familiar people.

Suddenly, just before entering the library, she froze and pricked up her ears. "Did you hear that?" she whispered, her hand set to grab her weapon.

Iselda stopped and narrowed her eyes. All she could see was bookshelves filled with tomes and scrolls. She was about to peek into the room to get a better look when there was a chinking sound, like a chalice or something hit the ground. Then, a lot of rustling.

"There's definitely someone", Alistair said in a low voice and drew his sword. "I'll go first, my shield can take a surprise blow or two."

The other Warden nodded and unsheathed her big blade. The gleaming coming from two pairs of daggers told her that the elves were ready and Wynne began to gather her mana. When everyone's positions were clear, Alistair walked into the library, his shield raised to protect him.

Right after there were no furniture covering the templar, a reddish creature attacked him. Alistair bashed it with the strong metal object and took a step back. He was facing a monster. Its upper body was scarred and swollen and the flesh concealed its mouth. The fingers had long claws and the creature's lower body was covered with a burgundy colored cloth.

"An abomination", Alistair hissed and his words were heard by the others. More of the same monsters ran towards him and he tightened his grip.

Iselda reacted quickly and rushed to her friend's side. The sharp edge of her sword cut the abomination next to Alistair and the floor got stained with blood. She yelled Wynne to cast a protective spell so that she could charge her next target. The mage complied and the Warden became surrounded with magical energy.

Wynne's spell affected everyone and Laryll was quite stunned. She had never fought with magical aid before so this was very alien to her. However, she remembered how her mother had once advised her: adapt quickly. Zevran was already hurrying her, saying that they have to help the Wardens, which made the redhead repeat the wise words in her thoughts.

_Watch me, mother and _mamá_. Watch how much I've grown._

Laryll spun her daggers around and dashed. There were three abominations engaging the Wardens and none of them noticed how the small elf used Alistair's body as a cover. As soon as the templar shifted, Laryll leaped forward and stroke. The creature Alistair had hurt with his shield before took a direct hit from the elf's blade. It let out a sound of death, but got silenced for good when Laryll's another dagger dug into its throat.

She didn't have time to plan her next action when Alistair shouted her to get away from the dead abomination. Confused she took a glimpse of the enemy she had defeated and managed to evade by rolling when it exploded, spreading fire and burning some dirty papers in ashes. Laryll cursed when she felt the scorching heat against her leg but got back on her feet swiftly. Because she couldn't see any blood, she thought her injury wasn't anything serious. The fact that Zevran was not there making a fuss confirmed Laryll's diagnosis.

The assassin was too busy sneaking behind the abomination that was trying to reach Iselda with its brown talons. With a single swing of the Warden's sword, Iselda cut off the monster's arm. Its horrific shriek made her grin in disgust. She prepared to slash her enemy again, but her plan got aborted when Zevran thrust his daggers on the abomination's back. There was no need for Alistair to warn his companions twice and both the Antivan and Iselda jumped out of the way when the creature slumped on the floor and burst.

Iselda quickly turned her head and saw how Dog kept the final abomination away from Wynne. The mabari's teeth were bloody and it certainly didn't approve the smell of burning flesh all over the place. Nevertheless, it charged and knocked the monster down, using the opportunity to climb on top of the target and rip a new gaping wound. Due to her light armor, Laryll was faster than Iselda and the elf ran to finish what Dog had started. Her blade sunk into the dying abomination's chest, right through the tear the mabari had created. Dog barked and Laryll knew what that meant. She took off the dagger and somersaulted forward, escaping the blast radius.

Just when the party was about to catch their breath, more abominations came behind bookshelves. Wynne told the rest to clear a path and once there was nothing else than monsters in front of her, she cast a spell which created a cone of freezing air. It hit the creatures and two of them got frozen while the lucky ones' movement got slower and they got filled with rage.

Alistair and Iselda exchanged glances and read each others' thoughts. Iselda ordered Dog to take care of the slowed enemies with the elves while she and the templar attacked the abominations which were like icy statues.

Thanks to Dog's howl the free creatures were stunned for a while and Zevran intended to use that moment for their advantage. A quick gesture of the assassin's hand told Laryll to flank one of the enemies and strike it together. With haste she reached her position and lifted her blades. As soon as Zevran said 'now', she brought her weapons down, cutting the abomination from shoulders to stomach. Blood gushed against the Antivan when his daggers, designed by the Crows, tore two horizontal lines on the creature's back. His call for Laryll couldn't be heard over the sound of the dead body exploding, but he had a relieved look when finally seeing his friend unharmed.

A sound of something shattering made Zevran turn briefly. Iselda's sword had crushed one of the frozen abominations in pieces while Alistair's shield broke the another statue. From a suitable distance the Wardens watched how cold lumps scattered on the floor and boomed at the same time.

After Laryll had moved to safety, she spun around and swung her weapon, but missed the abomination which was attempting to pierce Dog with its claws. The monster now targeted Laryll but its attack was stopped when Zevran's dagger flew in its eye and the beast's head jerked from pain. Bared throat was the last thing you wanted to show to a two-weapon fighter during a battle. Immediately Laryll's blade sliced and she got away before the fire or blood could touch her. Dog's panting next to her made her glad that the mabari's reflexes were almost as good as hers.

Wynne sighed and put her staff away. "I think that was the last of them, for now."

Laryll patted Dog and wiped some blood from her cheek. "You called them abominations", she gave a wondering look at Alistair.

"That is what a mage will turn into if he or she plays too nice with demons", the templar hung his shield on his back. "In short, an abomination is a possessed mage."

"You mean...those were people once?" Laryll's voice had a hint of trembling.

"'Were' is the word", Zevran laid his hand on the redhead's shoulder. "They are monsters now and will not show any kind of mercy, which is why we shouldn't too."

Laryll swallowed, but knew they were right. These abominations didn't look or feel like humans or elves and had nothing but evil in them. "Then, what about Connor?" she asked. "Is this going to be his fate too if we're too late?"

The old mage shook her head. "It is common that strong demons possessing mages won't change the host's appearance, at least not instantly. For the Arl's son to be able to resist the demon every now and then, his will must be quite exceptional."

Iselda had explained to Wynne what had been their another reason for coming to the Tower. The mage had assured the Wardens that if they could find Irving, he would help Connor. They would have to solve the situation at the Circle as soon as possible, because both Wynne and Alistair were concerned about for how long the demon inside Connor was willing to keep the Arl alive.

Everyone did a quick search in the library, but couldn't find anything useful. Laryll had to constantly tell Zevran that she was fine and uninjured. After finally convincing him the party was able to move on.

Before getting to the First Enchanter's room they encountered another group of abominations. Wynne cast a lightning spell which hit every enemy, weakening them greatly. The Wardens kept the creatures busy so that the elves could sneak behind them. The monsters had no chance of winning once flanked and if they even thought about targeting Laryll or Zevran, Dog's biting attacks made sure that wouldn't happen.

After the fight was over, the assassin borrowed his friend's daggers in order to clean them. Iselda tightened her ponytail and glanced at Laryll with a smile on her face. "I knew she was skilled", she said in a low voice and poked her fellow Warden.

Alistair was not the only one who agreed with Iselda. Zevran heard the Warden's whispering and was smirking. He looked at the reflection of Laryll on the blade in his hands. Strong, determined, beautiful, kind. Those were only a few of the words he had used when describing her to other Crows or someone else. He was aware of the many dangers ahead and that getting hurt was inevitable, but didn't let that discourage him. Laryll hated the moments when she felt weak, but this time she wouldn't get herself killed because of it, the Antivan was positive of that.

"What's so funny?" Laryll frowned when realizing Zevran's grinning.

The assassin gestured the elf to come closer. She shrugged and took a few steps forward. Then Zevran handed the shining daggers back to their owner and gently pulled Laryll's head so that their foreheads touched.

"Nothing, my dear", he hummed and slid his fingers through the elf's hair before releasing her and happily walked away.

Laryll's top priority was to hide her blushing from Iselda, who was staring and seemed amused. The Warden restrained herself from giggling and suggested that they should continue, not surprised that Laryll favored the idea.

0-0-0-0-0

"This is Irving's office", Wynne said after recognizing the room they were in.

To the party's disappointment, the First Enchanter wasn't there. The mess indicated a struggle but no blood had been spilled. It made the healer assume that Irving could still be alive. A page of his diary was torn and abandoned on his desk and when Wynne found the paper, she read it aloud.

Alistair rubbed his chin puzzled. "So Uldred was able to sense blood mages?"

"Irving wouldn't write about it if he didn't believe that to be true", Wynne put away the diary page and looked gave a final look at it. "He speaks like he's admiring Uldred's ability. It is amazing, but I cannot help but think that blood magic has something to do with the revolt. Uldred is the kind of man who fights for a cause only if he benefits from it."

"Well, we certainly won't make any progress by standing around", Iselda snorted, eager to find the one behind all this. The rushing got support from her companions and they headed at the stairs leading to the second floor.

The growing stench made Laryll want to cover her itching nose. She almost stumbled on another dead templar and the bottom of her boot got sticky from blood when she accidentally stepped on a fresh pool of crimson around the corpse. Zevran's only thought about Laryll's fumbling was that some poor soul has to clean the bloody footprints after all this.

Without a warning, Iselda stopped the others and turned her head a little, as in order to hear better. A sound of scrubbing got Alistair's attention too, but when he was going to move first, Wynne told him to be at ease and passed the Wardens. The rest could do nothing but trust the mage and follow.

Wynne noticed the source of the weird noise and coughed a little. A man who had been on his knees scrubbing a blood stain on the floor rose up, his empty eyes staring ahead.

"Greetings, Wynne", the man's calm voice said. "Forgive my rudeness, but I must ask you not to enter the stockroom. I still haven't cleaned it properly and the sight would be unpleasant."

"Owain, why are you here?" Wynne was stunned. "Some of the other survivors are downstairs, you should have come there."

"When I tried to leave, there was a barrier blocking my path, so I returned here."

"The mages would have removed the obstacle for you if you just would have said something", Zevran pointed out. He asked Laryll for her consent, but his words stuck into his throat when seeing the elf's shocked face.

_Too calm and hollow voice, eyes with no emotions, the inhuman feeling_, Laryll's mind listed the clear traits her friend from the alienage had told her. "Are you...a tranquil?" she carefully inquired.

Owain didn't smile, nor looked sad. "I took the Rite voluntarily to avoid getting possessed by demons. I do not regret, for now I'm at peace and safe."

"You can't feel regret, or anything. How would you know whether you made the right decision or not?"

The question was common when talking about tranquil mages. Wynne was not going to ask how Laryll knew about the Rite, it was probably for the best that she didn't. People shared different opinions of the tranquility. Some thought it was the only choice for dangerous mages, some believed it was the most brutal thing you could do to a person. Obviously Laryll belonged to the latter group if Wynne cold read the elf's expression at all.

The time was not appropriate to judge templars for their actions, so Wynne changed the subject. "Do you have any information of what happened here?"

"I don't know", Owain said plainly. "I just wish that the Circle would return to its original state. I wish that Niall will succeed in using the Litany of Adralla and restore the order."

"Who's Niall?" Iselda's eyebrow lifted.

"One of the enchanters", Wynne replied, but was more curious of the other thing Owain had mentioned. "Niall agreed that Uldred was going too far and if he has the Litany, then there's no mistake: blood magic is at work here. When used, it prevents anyone from casting mind controlling spells, which is typical for blood magic."

"Then we have to find both Irving and Niall", Laryll proposed and everyone nodded. She began to stir slightly because spending any more time with this tranquil mage made her nervous.

Owain insisted on staying, not wanting to waste Wynne's time to go back and lift the barrier. The old mage asked the tranquil to hide himself until the crisis was over, but Owain said he should continue cleaning and after saying goodbyes, he left to get more water for blood stains. Wynne assured her friends that there was nothing more they could do. Iselda sighed loudly and led the group to next hallway.

They walked for a while, sickened by the sight of lumps of red flesh all over the walls, ceiling and floor. Alistair had seen what blood magic could do, but this was almost too much ever for him. He saw how Laryll couldn't help herself from covering her nose any longer due to the stench. Zevran was trying to lift the mood by telling a joke about mages and templars, but when Laryll snickered she could smell the air again and cursed the assassin. The elves got dead silent when noticing Iselda's glaring, who wasn't too eager to alert their enemies.

The female Warden halted before entering the next room. She waved Zevran over and glimpsed the people she had seen near bookshelves around the corner. "There are three humans, mages no doubt", she whispered to the elf. "I want you to go eavesdrop what they are saying. We don't know if they are survivors or part of Uldred's rebellion."

"Wait, you want him to go alone?" Laryll nearly cried out, but managed to keep her voice low.

"If they are blood mages, we need an element of surprise. Once Zevran gets details, he'll signal us whether we'll attack or not."

The redhead's eyes were fluttering and her finger twitched. She was making every effort to come up with a good protest, but ended up chewing her lower lip. Then she thought how foolish she was, not believing in the person she trusted the most.

Zevran had his usual smirk when he put his finger on Laryll's lips, which made her stop biting. "I'll be fine, but thank you for your concern, _mi rub__í_", he winked and without a sound stepped into the room.

The mages had not heard the Antivan who went round some racks and chairs, his soft boots slowly and silently hitting the floor. As part of his training with the Crows, the assassin could breathe normally while not letting out even a hiss in a situation like this. He found a perfect spot behind a drawer and crouched. Laryll and the others could barely see him, just enough to notice what kind of signal he'd give.

"I told you this is crazy", one of the mages swung his arms.

"Don't worry, he'll figure this out", another mage responded.

"We just passed our Harrowing, what could we possibly do?"

"It doesn't matter what kind of power we possess now", the third mage sneered. "Uldred promised us he has something which will make us strong. He'll share it with everybody and then we can take the templars out."

Zevran had enough proof. His thumb made a common gesture of slaying a person, which told Iselda that the mages were not going to approve of their presence. The Warden ordered Laryll to get ready to charge and the elf drew her daggers. Iselda turned at the assassin and jerked her head a little.

With a 'happy to comply' look on his face, Zevran unsheathed his blades. As fast as wind he climbed on top of the drawer and jumped at one of the mages before any of them could shriek. The target's failure to react in time cost him his life when two daggers sunk in his chest, piercing the heart.

As soon as Zevran had attacked, Laryll had started running towards another mage, who fumbled with her staff. Once she had the weapon in her hand, Wynne's spell froze the mage's feet, which disoriented the enemy. Zevran used the chance and tried to turn in order to stab the mage, but suddenly he couldn't move his body. Dust circled on the floor when Laryll stopped abruptly and changed her direction. She saw how the other one of the opponents still alive had slit her wrist and cast a spell on the Antivan. Wynne tried to disrupt the mage, but she was persistent and continued to sustain her controlling magic.

Letting anger strengthen her, Laryll took a healing potion she had received from Bodahn and threw it against the blood mage's face. The woman raised her arms to shield herself, which made her spell to vanish. She never had a new opportunity to use her evil magic, because Laryll's dagger had already found its home on the mage's chest. Blood flowed from her mouth and she collapsed.

Both Zevran and the remaining mage got free at the same time and just when the assassin was about to finish what he had started, his target fell on her knees and lowered her head.

"Please, don't kill me!" the mage sobbed. "I will do anything, just spare my pitiful life!"

_Zevran, it's me! Please, don't let them do this, I beg of you!_

The Antivan blinked in confusion and just to forget about his painful memory he wanted to kill the mage. His hand sweated when it was grabbing the blade tightly and his mind was telling him to strike. But he felt a touch on his shaking arm and his eyes met Laryll's. The redhead smiled and that made Zevran relax and lay his weapon down.

"Quite impressive", Alistair whistled and glanced Iselda. "You know, we should let these guys to do all the fighting. Swift, no mess, no stamina wasted. I mean, you didn't even have time to sic Dog at those mages."

"So slaying the Archdemon is going to be swift, without mess and easy as pie?" Iselda put her hands on her hips.

"Baking good pies is not as easy as you would think", the templar grinned and the other Warden gave up.

The surrendered mage still didn't dare to raise her head until Iselda commanded her to do so. Wynne had no sympathy for the woman's tears and continued to give her a blaming glare.

"Why should we let you live?" Alistair began.

The mage swallowed hard. "I...I supported Uldred and his rebellion, but I had no idea what was involved. He's mad, totally mad. Using blood magic won't gain us freedom, it'll only doom us all."

"And yet you decided to take this path", Wynne spat, her voice as serious as a mother's who was scolding her child.

"I'm not proud of my actions, but were it not for blood magic, I would be dead already, like so many of my friends."

"I didn't know maleficars had friends", Alistair shrugged his shoulders.

Ignoring the Warden's words, Iselda crossed her arms. "Then what should we do with you? You're a blood mage and you took part in Uldred's plan. Those things are not something people just forget about."

"If you let me escape, I will have a better use for my life, I swear", the woman begged. "I'll go to the Chantry or anywhere you would want me to, far away from blood mages."

Wynne's eyes narrowed and she looked at Iselda. "Her kind are easy prey for demons. If you let her go, there's a high possibility that she'll be possessed sooner or later."

"On the other hand, if not even templars downstairs can catch her, then I think she's earned her freedom", Zevran added.

Iselda sought an opinion from Alistair, who shook his head. "Even if we show her mercy by letting her walk away, not even the Chantry welcomes a blood mage."

The mage's fear increased and she began to shake. "I only wish to live a bit longer! Please, I won't use forbidden magic anymore, not even if someone were to threaten me!"

Laryll's gaze was directed at Iselda, who mumbled and sighed. The elf wasn't familiar with blood mages, so seeing what the Warden would decide to be this woman's fate would serve as an example for her if she ever were to encounter a similar situation. Did the mage deserve mercy or was she to be slain here?

"Go", Iselda finally said, letting her arms rest.

The mage was unsure, switching her stare from the elves to the humans.

"Go", the Warden repeated.

With her wobbly legs, the mage arose and thanked, thrice. Iselda told her to hurry up and when the woman had disappeared from her line of sight, she inhaled sharply and gradually blew the air out.

"Not many could spare a blood mage's life, even if she was begging on her knees", Alistair tried to cheer Iselda up. "I'm glad that you are not one of those people."

"Thanks", the Warden smiled for a moment and gave a pat to Dog, praising it for doing a good job at protecting Wynne and the others.

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll sat on a bench, slowly chewing on the lump of bread she got from Iselda. The taste was nonexistent, but her body commanded her to eat and drink to gather strength. Occasionally Dog would come by and drool when noticing the food and Laryll threw a few bits for the mabari when Iselda wasn't watching. The only thing the Warden would realize was Dog's happier panting.

From the window Laryll could see nothing but darkness. It had to be midnight, according to fatigue she felt. _How long do we have_, she wondered. The Knight-Commander had been very clear. If the Rite of Annulment was granted, the Tower was to be purged, even if it meant killing her and the others as well, just to make sure no demons would flee. What about Connor? Everyone at the Castle could be dead for all they knew. The elf yawned and took a sip of water to help the dry bread reach her stomach.

"Tired?" an Antivan voice asked behind the redhead.

"Mmm", Laryll muttered and took another bite. She moved a little to create space for Zevran to sit.

"Well, don't fall asleep just yet. That would make defending yourself difficult, no?"

Laryll laughed and abandoned the rest of her food. "It's depressing. We've traveled for a while now, but haven't been able to help or save that many people. We came to the Circle to get aid and to help, but all I've seen is death."

The assassin leaned against the wall. "We did save quite a lot of humans in Redcliffe Village. You protected the villagers even when your old wounds were still healing." He smiled at Laryll. "Besides, if I can protect and save a one certain person, then I don't need anything else."

"Yeah? Who, yourself?" Laryll grinned.

Gently Zevran snatched his friend's chin and looked into her eyes. "You, my silly but beautiful elf", he breathed and gave a quick kiss on the elf's forehead.

_No-one saw that, right?_ Laryll scanned the area while touching her cheeks with her cool hands in order to make the blushing go away. In the next room the Wardens were talking with Wynne. King Cailan's and Loghain's names were mentioned, so they were probably recapping the incident at Ostagar.

"Oh, I almost forgot", the Antivan dug his pocket and put a small bottle on Laryll's hand.

"It's...green?" the redhead didn't know what she should say.

"It's poison, only produced by the Crows", Zevran clarified. "A tiny amount of this will deal more damage to your opponent, but the best part is that it could actually stun the enemy." He curled Laryll's fingers over the vial. "I'm not telling you to become an assassin, but I can teach you some of the skills I've learned during my time with the Crows. If you wish, that is."

"I...", Laryll paused, then lifted her head. "Of course, I'd like that, but...why?"

"It would be a great advantage for both of us. Knowing how your enemies fight is only half the strategy. The other half is to know how the people on your side fight."

There was truth in Zevran's words. Many times Laryll had faced dangers alone, not having to worry about anyone but herself. That kind of thinking had stayed with her and she was just beginning to get used to flanking enemies with someone else or fighting as a team. If Zevran hadn't threw his dagger at the abomination that had tried to attack Laryll, she could have been badly injured. If Wynne hadn't cast her protective spells, the fire from exploding bodies could have burned the elf's skin horribly.

_If Zev wasn't here, I would have most certainly died a long time ago._

After the assassin released Laryll's hand, she brought the bottle near her chest. "Thank you, Zev", there was no trace of anxiety on her face anymore.

A satisfied smirk was the Antivan's response. He pulled himself up, tousled Laryll's hair and told her he was going to ask the others if they were ready to go to the third floor.

* * *

**Notes: 20 followers! Big hugs and thanks for all my readers!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Just in case if some of the new readers don't know: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm Finnish.**

**Chapter 14 is going to have one of the most important parts of the story. It's one of the first events I had planned before starting to write this.**

**But, I still hope you enjoy this chapter as well! Treat yourself with some candy and feel free to comment!**

"There are no bodies", was the first thing Laryll made a note of upon reaching the third floor.

Zevran looked around and saw the same kind of fleshy lumps they had seen before stuck on walls and ceiling. But the stench emitting from the grotesque mass was stronger, fresher. Plus Laryll was right. Downstairs there had been several dead templars lying in pools of their own red fluid. Here, there were none. Stains of crimson covered the floor, but the party couldn't find any corpses.

"More the reason to be careful", Iselda was all serious and prepared. Her gauntlet grated when she kept closing and opening her hand.

With unsure steps Wynne followed the Warden. Something in the air told the mage that they were about to encounter a powerful creature. Dog seemed to sense her concern and whimpered, like it wanted to ask what troubled the mage. Wynne scratched the mabari behind its ears and glanced the large room they had entered, the Great Hall.

White pillars supported the roof, even though some of them were missing a piece or two. Most of the furniture had been broken and the carpets were rumpled. All the signs indicated that someone had fought here recently. A glimmer caught Alistair's attention and he turned his head. He tapped Iselda's shoulder and pointed at a male human on a shattered table. A templar sword was sticking out of his body.

Wynne approached the dead man and sighed. "He was only an apprentice", she slightly touched the simple robes and took a deep breath. "We must hurry, so that we can end this nightmare."

Iselda agreed with a quick nod. Confident that there was nothing that could help them in this room, she marched towards the second door of the hall.

All of a sudden Zevran's eyes widened. "Warden, don't move!" he shouted.

Iselda's legs stopped and she stiffened. When the assassin told her to look on the floor in front of her, she noticed some kind of small bag, which Iselda presumed to be a trap. Just when she was going to retreat, a figure floated into the room. The creature, which looked like an abomination, reached its fingers surrounded with magical energy and shot a spell at the Warden.

"Iselda!" Alistair cried too late and watched as the blast hit his friend and knocked her prone. He armed himself and the elves did the same.

"Ugh, Maker...", the female warrior groaned and rubbed her stomach. "Dog!" she commanded and in seconds the mabari had run to the monster, searching for a perfect spot to sink its teeth in.

Laryll shifted to glimpse behind her after having heard noises and saw at least five walking corpses limping at them. She had faced the undead in Redcliffe, but back then there had been no mage with them. With a 'tsk' sound she readied herself, but Wynne stepped in front of her.

"I can handle these minions", the old mage assured. "You have to defeat the Arcane Horror."

The redhead assumed Wynne meant the magical demon. Iselda had got back on her feet and charged the creature Dog was keeping busy. The elf wished to protest and stay with the mage, but got interrupted when Alistair appeared beside her.

"Go, she needs aid!" the templar's anger strengthened his words and with shield he bashed an undead creature and pierced it with his sword.

A familiar hand in Laryll's made her trust these humans and she turned to meet Zevran's eyes. After swallowing last of her doubts, Laryll followed the assassin, grasping her daggers tightly.

Just when the elves reached their target, the Arcane Horror paralyzed Dog and wounded Iselda with its claws. It tried to use the break to cast another spell, but Laryll disrupted the creature by slashing its side. With a twinkle in his eye, Zevran rolled to get behind the demon and one of his daggers hit the enemy. It dodged when Iselda ignored her injury and attempted to knock the monster down with the pommel of her sword.

The miss was unfortunate. The Arcane Horror's arm swung and a spell was cast. At first it seemed like nothing had happened, but then Laryll noticed how none of Zevran's or Iselda's attacks hit the opponent. Determined to get the demon release its magic, Laryll planned to put everything she got behind a single stroke and target the monster's chest. But when she lifted her blade, she suddenly felt very exhausted and fell on her knees. She supported herself with her shaky arms and ordered her body to get up.

Cold, bony hand grabbed Laryll's jaw. Sharp claws slowly began to sink into her face and the creature gazed its prey. It felt like time had stopped even though everything had happened in seconds. Laryll couldn't move and although she managed to hold her weapon, she couldn't find any strength to use it. A shiny tear freed itself.

There was a loud bark and Dog bit the Arcane Horror's neck, making the demon let go of the elf. The monster let out awful roars and failed at getting the mabari off. While the enemy was focused on Dog, Zevran caught Laryll and carried her away from the demon. He whistled to Iselda who saw her chance. With no-one on her way after Dog had jumped to a safe distance, she swung her huge sword and cut the target's leg. Once it slumped, Iselda raised her blade and brought it down, severing the Arcane Horror's head.

Alistair was finishing the last of the walking corpses by stomping on it. He had received only one cut when protecting Wynne and the mage healed it easily. They were more worried of Iselda's grunting noises. Wynne prepared another curing spell and the magic closed the wound near the Warden's shoulder. After a quick inspection, she was sure Iselda hadn't broken any bones and that the pain in her stomach would eventually disappear, which made Alistair sigh in relief.

Finally the weakening effect on Laryll vanished and she could breathe normally again. A bit confused, she realized the fight was over and that somehow she had ended up sitting on floor in Zevran's arms.

"Are you alright?" the assassin cupped the elf's cheek and with his thumb wiped away some blood. The injuries the creature had caused on Laryll's face were minor, but the Antivan still asked Wynne to heal them.

"I don't understand", Laryll was disappointed in herself. "Why did I lose all my strength suddenly?"

"The Arcane Horror used a weakening spell on you", Wynne said as the warm energy from her palm spread across the elf's face. "The reason why it affected you so well was probably because you hadn't experienced something like that before."

"Well, what matters is that thing is now dead", Zevran gently pulled Laryll up and let go of her only after ensuring she was okay. "Where should we go next, Wardens?"

Wynne took a glimpse of the Great Hall's statues and gestured at the room's second door. "When we go through that door, there's a corridor which leads to the stairs. They will take us to the fourth floor, the Templar Quarters."

_If the templars want to prevent mages from escaping, then why on earth aren't their chambers located downstairs?_ Laryll thought, but was not going to point her idea out. No mage deserved to be locked up like this. The world was already full of darkspawn, undead and demons. What difference would it make if few crazy mages were added to that melange?

Laryll decided to keep her thoughts to herself.

0-0-0-0-0

Again, there were no templar bodies. A lot of blood had been spilled and Alistair noticed a couple of broken weapons and shields, but their wielders were nowhere to be seen. Everything looked ravaged, but if mages or demons caused all this, then they were either dead or hiding. Or they had fled.

Iselda exchanged glances with Alistair after exiting a room and shook her head. "No templars in the Templar Quarters", she frowned. "Weird."

Alistair couldn't agree more. Wynne however seemed concerned and she observed her surroundings closely.

"Something wrong?" Iselda finally asked the mage.

Wynne sighed. "I sense a great magical power. We are not alone here."

Just when she had said that, they heard a crashing sound. Wynne turned around and stared at a group of heavy-armored templars approaching her, with drawn weapons. Behind the knights she saw a female demon.

She took her staff and began to gather her mana. "The demon is controlling them", she advised the others. "The templars cannot be saved anymore, you have to slay them." Her spell boosted her companions' defense, which was necessary against these enemies.

One of the possessed men was about to attack Laryll, but his blade was stopped by Iselda's. "Leave these to me and Alistair", she told the elf and pushed the opponent back. "I trust that you'll be able to kill the demon with Zevran. Hurry!"

Laryll watched as Wynne froze another templar and the Wardens' swords clanged. "Let's go, Zev!" she shouted and unsheathed her daggers.

"At your side, _mi querida_", the assassin answered and winded his fingers around the handles of his blades.

As the elves dashed towards the demon, Iselda kicked her target, staggering him. With a fast swing she hit the templar's shoulder and the sharp edge of the steel went through the armor. Despite his major injury, the man didn't show any signs of feeling pain. The Warden thought it had to be because of the demon's control and finished the enemy with another attack.

There were two templars engaging Alistair, but one got hit by shield and lost his balance and the other received a direct hit from longsword into his side. Dog kept the fallen templar pinned on ground while Iselda lifted her weapon and it penetrated the opponent's chest like a stake. Alistair dodged a blow aimed at him and thrust his sword in the templar's throat. Wynne's spell had managed to stun the two remaining knights, and the Wardens charged to aid the mage.

Zevran had reached the demon and both of his daggers targeted the horned woman. It evaded quickly and launched a freezing spell at the assassin. Thanks to Wynne's magic Zevran resisted the coldness and waved his hand, signaling Laryll to get into a flanking position. The redhead's dexterity surpassed the demon's speed and once Laryll was behind her opponent, she stroke.

Crimson colored the air and the woman screamed. She glared at her attacker, gritting her teeth and suddenly vanished, leaving the elves stunned. Laryll began to move restlessly and her knuckles turned white. The Wardens were still fighting against one templar, but she couldn't find the demon.

Until Zevran cried her name when the enemy appeared right beside her, vicious claws ready to cut the elf's flesh.

Laryll had time only to gasp before everything else happened. Being surprised, she couldn't raise her blades to parry or duck out of the way. The creature would certainly hit her and Laryll's only hope was that the damage wouldn't be bad.

But she didn't feel anything. Not a scratch. She saw though. A pointy-eared person in front of her, who had lifted his arm and was now pressing it fast with his other hand.

"Ah shit", Zevran cursed as large drops of his blood touched the floor, creating red puddles.

Something flashed in Laryll's eyes and she snatched a small green bottle from her breast pocket. With a few swift motions she was able to open the vial, coat the tip of her dagger with the liquid in it and put the closed container away. She howled as in order to get more power and attacked.

Her dagger slit the demon's naked breast. Laryll turned around to see if the poison had worked. The enemy wasn't moving, so she had been successful. Taking a full advantage of the situation, the elf thrust her weapon once more, sinking it deep between the monster's shoulder blades. With a shrill shriek, the demon collapsed and took its final breath.

At the same time Alistair's blow made the last charmed templar lose his helmet and Dog immediately assaulted, tearing the human's throat which killed him instantly.

Laryll dropped her daggers and tenderly grabbed Zevran's arm. The claws had cut two long, nasty-looking wounds which were bleeding incessantly. Her fingers trembled when she tried to cover part of the injury while Wynne drank a lyrium potion to get enough mana for a healing spell.

"Your hand will get dirty, _mi rub__í_", the assassin laughed a little.

Laryll didn't answer right away. She remained still, not meeting the Antivan's gaze. "_Tonto..._", she muttered.

Zevran smirked. "As long as you're safe, I don't mind you calling me that." He was utterly glad that his friend hadn't forgotten her Antivan accent. Whenever he had read Laryll's clumsy-written letters, he could hear her voice speaking the words, no matter how misspelled.

Wynne's spell was ready and she asked Laryll to let go of Zevran. Then the mage moved a glowing, transparent globe over the assassin's wounds and bit by bit the magical energy cured them. Not even scars were left when Wynne had finished.

"If you guys are finished, then we should keep going", Iselda said over her shoulder as she set her sword on her back. "It appears like the mystery of missing templar bodies has been solved and I'd rather not encounter more of them being controlled."

Before accompanying the Wardens, the blond elf detached his waterskin and poured the cool fluid on Laryll's sticky hand, ignoring her flinch and dried it with some bandage form an injury kit. He did the same to himself and gave a smile. A door Iselda was trying to open was locked, so Zevran brushed Laryll's hair once and headed to the Warden, tools for picking locks already out of his pocket.

The perplexed elf continued to stare at her cleaned palm. Blood could be washed off and wounds could be treated with magic. But the images would always remain in one's memory, reminding you of possibilities before any battle. You endanger your life during each fight, aware that you could die. That didn't bother Laryll. What scared her was what if Zevran, or someone else, jumped in front of her to take a blow which wouldn't be fatal to her, but would kill the person protecting her. What if she knew she could survive the next attack, but Zevran would still shield her just because of reflex?

That's why Laryll couldn't afford being weak. The Antivan was too dear to her, she was not going to watch him die because of her. She liked him too much to allow that to happen.

She...liked him.

0-0-0-0-0

The silence was nerve-racking. There were traces of blood on floor which indicated that bodies or badly injured people had been dragged along the hallway. All the trails led to one room and the door was shut. Wynne told the others that they were near the stairs which would lead the party to the Harrowing Chamber, the uppermost floor of the Tower. Because they hadn't met Uldred yet, he had to be there. In the best or worst case, Irving was with him.

Searching the rest of the rooms didn't provide any pleasing results and Iselda suggested following the red lines on the floor. They still had to seek Niall out in order to acquire the Litany and right now everyone kept their fingers crossed. Alistair grabbed the handle and waited for a permission to turn it.

"Hang on", Zevran whispered, stopping the Warden. He glimpsed the door opposite the one they were about to open and gestured at it. "Don't you hear those voices?"

Laryll narrowed her eyes and focused. "At least two people", she concurred.

An annoyed snort was Iselda's answer and she peeked through the keyhole on the door the elf had meant. The sight was not nice and she straightened her back. "Another lady with horns and as much clothing as Morrigan has."

Wynne was the only one who didn't snicker, not even a little.

"And she's got company", Iselda continued. "A templar, most likely as her puppet."

The mage shook her head. "If we go in, we have to kill them both", she sounded melancholic.

"We can't leave the demon", Alistair commented.

"It's the templar we can't leave", Laryll had to correct and the Wardens looked at her in surprise.

"A demon's mind controlling spell is very hard to dispel", the mage also wished to help, but couldn't come up with a solution.

"We shall see", Laryll wasn't going to just stand and watch an innocent man, templar or not, being drawn out of his soul and made a doll, so she pushed the door and entered before Zevran could halt her.

"Did you hear something?" the enchanted templar's words were emotionless and quite slow as Laryll took a few more steps forward, giving others no choice but to imitate her.

The demon stroke her pet's cheeks. "We've got some late visitors, my love", her soft voice breathed. "Let me go meet them, you go ahead and tuck the children into bed."

"What kind of game are you playing with this human?" Laryll sounded disgusted and angry.

After the red-eyed woman kissed the templar, she turned around and her smile didn't indicate gentle, but evil. "Please, leave us be. My husband doesn't approve being disturbed at a time like this and the children need to rest."

"Just what kind of seduction technique did you use to make him believe such lies?" the assassin's got curious, but the redhead beside him poked him hard.

"I recommend you release the man from your spell, if you value your life", Iselda intimidated and her hand clenched into a fist.

"There's no need to threaten us", the demon hummed. "We are simply lovers and wish to be left in peace."

"That's ridiculous", spat Laryll, glaring at the creature. "If his decisions aren't his own, then that isn't love. And you certainly don't love him, you're only after his soul."

Suddenly there was a hint of light in the templar's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had emerged. His mouth moved a little, but he couldn't speak. The odd behavior made Wynne blink several times and she felt how mana had begun to swirl faintly around her as a reaction.

"I would keep my lips sealed, if I were you", the demon hissed. "I ask you again: leave us."

Zevran realized it suddenly. This was similar to the incident at Redcliffe Castle, when Connor had took control of Laryll. He remembered how afraid he had been, but that was not the only thing. The pivotal turn of events had occurred when he had looked into the elf's eyes. He had seen his friend there, fighting against the spell. That same spark had showed up in the templar's pupils moment ago.

"Wake up, templar!" Laryll shouted. "This is not real!"

Prepared to stop the monster if it tried to hurt its challenger, the Antivan drew his daggers. When he took a glimpse of Laryll, a cloud of energy which Wynne cast flew at the charmed human, hitting its target. The man grunted and held his head.

"You dare to attempt erase what I have created?" snarled the demon and raised the templar's chin with her fingers. "They are here to kill our children, darling. Don't let them!"

"I...", her puppet groaned and the glimmer vanished from his eyes. "I'll rip those who target our kids into shreds!" He armed himself and furiously shifted his gaze to meet Laryll's.

"She's the enemy, not us!" the elf made every effort to snap the templar back to reality while Wynne started another spell which could dispel the control. "Think of your real loved ones! The people you care about! Do not succumb under this demon's influence!"

The Wardens unsheathed their swords, positive that this would only end with a fight. However, Dog didn't reveal its teeth which made Iselda wonder. Her ponytail swung when she moved out of the way of Wynne's spell that again hit the templar.

The magic was more powerful this time and the knight fell on his knees, pressing his head with his hands and cursing from pain. Then he paused and panted heavily.

"Love?" the demon squatted next to her false husband. Her touch never reached the templar as the man shoved his blade through the monster's stomach. No-one heard her final mumbling over the bloody coughing and gasping.

The human pulled his weapon out and kicked the body on the ground, huffing and his arm trembling. "What...the heck happened?" he sounded like he tasted every word before saying them aloud.

"That demon had captured you with her mind", Wynne explained and glanced at Laryll. "Were it not for this young lady, you would have spent the rest of your days in an imaginary world filled with lies."

"No compliment for your magic?" Laryll wasn't comfortable of being the only one praised, but received just a happy laugh from the mage.

The templar put his weapon away and knelt before the elf, hand over his heart. "Then I'm in your debt, my lady. If there's any way to repay you, do tell me and I shall do whatever I can."

Now Laryll was becoming embarrassed and she glanced at Zevran, who obviously wanted to tease her by not noticing. Having no idea how to reply to a templar kneeling in front of her, she lowered her eyes. "I, ah... You don't need to thank me, I just...", her stuttering made no sense.

After having a lot to grin at, Iselda stepped forward. "It would be much appreciated if you could get to the entrance of the Tower. The Knight-Commander and his troops are there, but they won't open the door for us until we've located Irving and bring him to Gregoir. With luck, they'll listen to you."

"You must tell Gregoir that Uldred is behind this, I'm sure he knows the man", Wynne stated her request. "He has to be in the Harrowing Chamber upstairs and that's where we are going. Tell him we're close to finishing this."

The templar wasn't going to ask about the fleshy material all around the place and the blood, he figured it was better not to know. Instead, he nodded and bowed, thanking Laryll one more time before leaving.

Being able to relax a bit, Laryll's shoulders slumped and she sighed. Her moment of ease didn't last long when Zevran's arms unexpectedly caught her.

"See? What have I been telling you about your charm? Even templars kneel down when seeing you", the assassin chuckled.

Laryll wasn't the only abashed elf in the room after she had suddenly seceded herself from Zevran's embrace. It got even the humans', especially Iselda's, attention. The redhead couldn't hide her blushing, so she whispered 'sorry' and fled to the corridor.

_I l...like him._

0-0-0-0-0

Dog had followed Laryll and was laying on the floor, getting its fur scratched and brushed. The elf couldn't focus on anything else than playing with the mabari. If her thoughts took her somewhere else, she would bite her lip.

"Laryll?" asked a voice behind her, which made her accidentally bite too hard.

"Ow!" the elf's palm flew against her mouth and iron taste on her tongue caused her to squeeze eyes shut.

Normally Zevran would laugh at Laryll being so silly, but now his smirk was gone and he kept a bigger distance than usual. "Is everything okay?" he sounded somehow shocked.

Laryll sucked blood from her lip and managed to stop the minor bleeding. "Yeah, you just spooked me a little, nothing serious. Stupid me-"

"That's not what I meant."

_Of course it wasn't_, Laryll was well aware. She lowered her hand and leaned against the cold wall. There was no good way to begin. What should she tell him? Sharing her pain had already been difficult, though in the end it had made her much more comfortable. But revealing her feelings? That would include some terms Laryll had never used before in such a manner. Her mind was tangled once again and she couldn't find the end of the string, which made her panic.

"_Mi querida_", Zevran's touch on Laryll's cheek wiped out the mess in her head, "you trusted me before. I ask you to trust me again. If I have done something wrong-"

"No, never!" came out a sudden cry from Laryll and she quickly tore her gaze away from the Antivan. "I...I don't want you to think... Just because of my own feelings, I don't want you to...to..." She was lost, but at least there were no tears to make this even more uneasy.

It was something Zevran hadn't encountered earlier, so he wasn't able to read the elf. When Laryll had been hurt, it showed clearly. It had weakened her, made her vulnerable. After the night at the lake she had changed completely. She had become strong, skillful and was the same stubborn elf she had been in Antiva.

But this Laryll reminded the assassin of someone and it took a while for him to figure it out. The giggling child with a flushed face, repeatedly telling how she liked Zevran and wished never to part with him. That child was there, right in front of him, but as an adult. They weren't in Antiva nor at the Dusk. Zevran wasn't teasing his friend anymore with funny words he had learned from the prostitutes. This time those words had greater meaning.

He tried to get Laryll to look at him by tilting his head. "Laryll, do you-"

"Hey", Iselda called out and waved at the elves. "Wynne said she has rested enough. Let's go."

Putting his question on hold wasn't the plan, but the assassin accepted that for now. Dog ran to its master and the elf was going to do the same, until Laryll yanked his shirt.

"I trust you, more than you know", she said silently and passed the Antivan.

Standing there alone fluttering would seem too awkward, so Zevran hurried to the others. Luckily Laryll smiled a little. If even a hint of pain mirrored from her grin, Zevran was sure he would experience the hardness of Iselda's gauntlet again.

All the traces led to the room behind the closed door Alistair was ready to open. With a go from Iselda he entered and everyone swiftly went after him. They hadn't drawn their weapons, but once facing the creature inside, a lot of blades chinked almost simultaneously.

"Ahh, so you have come this far", the abomination-like monster spoke calmly. There were other voices echoing with his own. "Most excellent work."

"Beware, it's a Sloth Demon", Wynne warned and grabbed her staff.

"Well, if you're so impressed, then you must have an idea of how I'm going to get past you", Iselda sneered, running her fingers along the steel of her sword.

The demon remained still. "Why should we fight? I'm tired of all the violence. Wouldn't you want to have a nice sleep for once, free of all the horrors in this world?"

The Warden didn't quite understand the creature and didn't drop her guard until noticing how Dog abruptly thudded on the floor, like it had fallen asleep. "What did you do?" she growled, but a yawn interrupted her. "Wha...why do I feel so tired?"

"You're right", Alistair's mouth widened and closed. "I'm getting sleepy, too."

"No!" Wynne sensed how her mana began to disappear. "The demon cast a spell on us, resist it or...or else..." The mage watched how the Wardens slumped and the elves were next. They fell on the ground and had no strength to move and the same soon happened to Wynne.

"Laryll, keep your eyes open!" Zevran yelled, not being able to obey the order himself.

Once their legs had failed them, there was no chance of getting up. Alarmed, Laryll reached for the assassin's hand and was relieved for a second when she felt a touch. It was faint, but she could hear the Antivan mutter 'my' and 'ruby' in his native tongue before the darkness brought by the spell became impossible to evade.

* * *

**Notes: _tonto=fool, idiot_**

**I reuse some of the same words I've already translated in the earlier chapters, so I'm not going to put them on notes again. Except if my readers demand that! :D**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks for R/R/F/F!**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: I know I said this chapter has an important event, but I had to divide this part of the story into two chapters (sorry!), or this would have become too long. So this will start the crucial part and the next chapter will continue it. I'm a horrible person for promising something and then keeping you all excited, but I swear I'll start the part two within...24 hours at least!**

**So get yourselves a warm drink and enjoy!**

Laryll forced her heavy eyelids open. The ground under her felt rough and lying on rubble wasn't comfortable. She breathed slowly and stared at the sky. It wasn't blue or covered with gray clouds. Like everything else, it seemed yellowish, with a few spots of blackness. Dust swirled around the elf and the quiet made her nervous, so as soon as her body didn't feel numb anymore she pulled herself up, continuing to glimpse the surroundings.

Sounds of steps came behind her.

"Who's there?!" Laryll quickly turned around, daggers ready in her hands.

Dog let out a pathetic whimper and lowered its muzzle, waiting for a permission to do otherwise.

Laryll sighed and laughed at the same time. "You foolish _perrito_", she put the weapons away, squatted a little and opened her arms. Soon there was a happy mabari barking in her embrace, begging for scratching, which it received.

"What about the others?" Laryll looked at Dog. "Surely you'd know where at least Iselda is?" It pained her more than anything to wake up alone, especially with no sign of Zevran. She remembered how they all had fallen asleep in the same room, but now they had somehow parted ways.

The war hound tilted its head and sniffled the air. Its bark had a desperate and sad tone in it, so the elf was quite sure it couldn't locate the Warden. She patted Dog and asked it to follow her. They had to keep moving and the place gave Laryll the creeps.

Steadily she walked along the path which led to some kind of platform. Huge pillars cast their shadows over her and she was pretty sure she heard some noises, like silent cries or whispers. Laryll went up the few stairs and stopped at the center of the wide area. Dog's panting was better than nothing, but the rogue's finger was still twitching. The two of them weren't without company, something or someone was watching.

"Laryll", a soft, most golden voice breathed over the elf's shoulder.

She couldn't turn immediately because she recognized the voice. Tears began to swell in Laryll's eyes and once she faced the one who had called her, the salty liquid ran free. There was an elven woman, beautiful as dawn with shining blond hair colored like the sun. The dress she wore was pure white with green emeralds. Her skin looked as smooth as cream and curvy tattoos decorated her face.

"_Ma...Mam__á_", Laryll muttered, her words getting unclear due to sobs between them.

The woman's smile was very similar to Zevran's and she touched the crying elf's cheek. "My little girl, it is so good to finally meet you", she almost sang and hugged gently.

Laryll wrapped her arms around her Antivan - no, Dalish - mother. She had no idea what to say, what to tell her. So much had happened. And she didn't have the heart to reveal what kind of home the alienage of Denerim was. Her new family had been loving, but easy days had been rare. In Antiva, every elf took care themselves and were free to go as they pleased. In Denerim, elves were isolated like mages in the Circles under strict rules. There was no way to pretty up the truth.

The woman released Laryll from her hold. "You've become so beautiful and strong. I always knew you had a greater destiny and that you would succeed."

The young elf winched and took a few steps back. "Succeed?" she was puzzled and her tears had ceased.

"The Blight, you ended it. The darkspawn are no more. You, my dear, defeated them."

Laryll's hand flew to her forehead when she felt a sudden throb of pain, which almost right away disappeared. Then her gaze met the Dalish's. "I...I don't recall anything like that. And...how do you know of the Blight if you're...", she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud.

"Even though you haven't been able to see me, I've watched over you", Zevran's mother never stopped smiling and reached for Laryll. "You can finally rest. The world is at peace now."

Not taking the woman's hand, Laryll's mouth tried to form the right words and ended up chewing her lip, avoiding looking at the elf. If this was really her mother, then she was in the Fade, the realm of spirits. It was her dream, although something felt wrong. Would she be able to wake up? Everything seemed too real. Leaving would be no easy task. Plus why would this spirit tell her such things?

Suddenly Laryll had a flashback. The images were faint, but she could see glimpses of her almost getting trapped in the Fade even though she was not ready. A door, she saw a door in a small room and it was blurry. She had attempted to open it, to escape the place, but there had been an interruption. A familiar voice had stopped her.

_Instincts_, her adoptive parent from Denerim had reminded her.

Laryll gasped and retreated. "I...I have to find Zev", she said firmly. "I wish I could be with you, but I can't."

The Dalish lifted her brow and gave a shocked leer at the redhead. "Why would you want to go? No-one will harm you here, you're safe with me."

As she approached slowly, Dog growled and bared its teeth. If Laryll were not already suspicious, she would have scolded the mabari for its behavior. Swallowing hard and pulling herself together, Laryll pressed her lips into a straight line and started walking towards a pedestal on the platform.

"What are you doing, my child?" the elven woman shifted nervously.

As Laryll got to the glowing stand, she could see the energy spinning around it. She was no mage, but this thing had to be strongly enchanted and it could be a way out. Or a deadly trap, though she figured that whatever dream she was having was a trap too.

The elf's hand glided towards the light of the pedestal.

Dog barked angrily when the Dalish woman shrieked and attacked. From corner of her eye Laryll saw how the gorgeous elf had suddenly grown long claws and didn't hesitate. With a clean technique a dagger was unsheathed from its scabbard and the blade cut the target's throat. It was not blood, but black ooze which stained Laryll's weapon. The spirit scooped for air and fell on her knees, the golden hair sweeping the ground.

Laryll panted heavily and was unable to hold her dagger due to the shaking. Hidden tears shyly revealed themselves, making the elf taste the saltiness of regret. Her legs couldn't move even when her mother coughed dark liquid and desperately hung onto her life.

Just as Laryll was about to beg for forgiveness, the woman smiled warmly at her. "He's always cared about you", she whispered. "You shouldn't worry him, so...go..."

Before her body began to fade away, she stretched out her hand and spread her fingers. The smiling face was the last to vanish, leaving Laryll stunned and wordless. It was and wasn't her mother and even if some evil spirit had taken this form to mess with her, attacking it felt like the biggest mistake of Laryll's life.

She slumped on the hard tiles. Her crying sounded like she hadn't ever done so. It was genuine, heartbreaking and without a hint of uncertainty. All the emotions related to repentance overwhelmed her. She needed someone to tell her she did the right thing. But no-one answered her. Only Laryll's weeping rang in the blurry world, making her wish to just rest and forget. Rest in peace.

When the elf didn't seem to react to Dog's whining, it put its paw on Laryll's lap and licked her cheek once. The redhead raised her head in surprise and her wet eyes looked at the mabari. You didn't have to understand the animal's language to get what it tried to say. Crying a bit less now, the elf hugged Dog and buried her face in its fur. It wasn't Zevran's shoulder, though she wouldn't want the Antivan to see her in such pitiful state. Not again.

"I'm sorry", Laryll managed to laugh a little and scratched Dog. "Of course I'm not alone. I can't give up." She sniffled fast and wiped her nose, then forced herself to get up. The pedestal next to her was still surrounded by magic, inviting anyone to come closer. "Shall we?" she glanced at the mabari which gave an agreeing bark.

After Laryll touched the metallic object, the space circling her and the war hound became foggy and unclear. She took a final glimpse of the spot where she had slain the spirit and shed her last tears. "Goodbye, _mamá_. I will do my best, just watch me."

And in a flash they were teleported elsewhere.

0-0-0-0-0

"You became a what?" Niall held his breath.

"A mouse. Quite an experience", Laryll's sneer was almost too amused.

The elf and the mabari had encountered the mage Niall as soon as they had been transported to a new area. The senior enchanter's story was very similar to theirs: he climbed the Tower in order to get to Uldred and stop him, but got sucked into the Fade by the Sloth Demon. Except that he actually had a way to end the Circle's situation. Niall had acquired the Litany of Adralla and was certain that would help against Uldred's magic. He hadn't discovered how to leave the dream world until Laryll had solved that problem. A portal behind the mage had taken the elf to another spirit in a form of a mouse and as thanks for saving its life from a group of Rage Demons it had taught Laryll how to shape shift into the tiny animal.

Niall seemed thoughtful when he rubbed his long brown hair. "It could work", he mumbled to himself, but decided to speak a bit louder when Laryll frowned at him. "With that power, you could enter the rat holes I've seen when I wandered about, trying to escape. Maybe those will take you to the islands I couldn't reach."

"I'm not sure I follow you", confused Laryll said.

"Can you see that pedestal?" Niall gestured at the same kind of stand the elf had used earlier. "I think that each rune on it marks an area in the demon's domain."

Laryll took a closer look. There was indeed a faint map of sorts on top of the object which showed five regions surrounding the island on the center. Three other places were further away from the middle, connected to the nearer ones.

The enchanter's finger landed on the spot circled by the other sections. "The Sloth Demon has to be there, in the center but he's cast a spell which prevents you from entering. I sneaked around and found out that each area has a powerful demon, a guardian most likely, chosen to maintain the effect."

"You think killing these guardians would dispel the demon's protective barrier?" Laryll's head was full of questions, but she wished to keep things simple so she didn't ask them.

The mage nodded. "Yes. When I figured that out, I felt hopeless. My strength is not enough to fight all of these demons and every time I attempted to get to another island, an obstacle would stop me." His eyes rose and a fragile smile appeared on his face. "But you have a chance. By going through the rat holes I saw, which also act as dimension doors, you should be able to go to rooms I couldn't. Unfortunately I can't tell you what you may encounter. In the Fade, you have to be prepared for anything."

_Well I wasn't prepared to meet _mamá, Laryll's voice told her, but she shook the images away. "I'll do it", her mind was set. "Being trapped in the Fade for the rest of my days isn't very appealing. Although", she switched her gaze to the war hound that was investigating a pile of rocks, "Dog can't turn into a mouse, how is he going to follow me?"

"It managed to do so before, didn't it?" the human reminded, and Laryll blinked. "The only explanation I can come up with is that the mabari has your scent and as long as it is determined to be with you, it can track you in the Fade. Whenever you pass through a portal, it actually gets summoned to you."

It would be more logical for Dog to be at its master's side, the one it's most familiar with. If it couldn't find Iselda, then the Warden had to be further away than Laryll had imagined. Which also implied that she would have to search deeper in the realm to get to Zevran.

"I suggest you go this region first", Niall pointed at one of the locations on the map. "It's infested by a horde of darkspawn, but there were a lot of holes you can use in the mouse form."

The elf thanked and whistled Dog to accompany her. The mabari abandoned its exploring and hurried to join Laryll who was getting ready to be teleported by the magical stand. Niall could not come with her, because she was the only one who could shape shift and trailing another person by scent probably applied for the war hound only.

Before stepping into the light, Laryll turned around to look at the mage. "What about my friends? They fell asleep at the same time I did, so are they here too?"

Niall squinted his eyes when the brightness grew stronger. "Possibly. If they're not in the guardians' districts, you should visit the smaller isles too once you can. And remember", he had to almost shout when Laryll seemed to begin vanish, "this is the Fade. Do whatever it takes if your companions have been captured by dreams, or they will get imprisoned here for eternity."

The grim advice reverberated in the elf's ears, but she braced herself and let the magic do its part. As the human and the yellow scenery gradually blurred and got replaced by whiteness, Laryll drew vigor from her thoughts of Zevran when the shine engulfed her.

0-0-0-0-0

Niall hadn't been kidding about the numbers of darkspawn. Laryll found it quite frustrating that every time she transformed into a mouse and used a hole to access new areas, at least two creatures would be waiting for her. Letting her daggers dance with the enemies, Laryll was able to handle the opponents pretty quickly, despite the fact she hadn't slain many of their kind until now. Occasionally she would come across odd objects which emitted hot energy. The first one she had touched accidentally – which was Dog's curiosity's fault – and it had filled the elf with more power. Noticing no bad effects, Laryll had kept an eye on more of these strange essences, each of them giving her different kinds of strength.

One rat hole brought her into a room where a templar was fighting against a couple of darkspawn. One of the monsters was launching spells at the man, so when Laryll rushed to aid, she decided to terminate the caster first. For a moment she had no idea why it felt like her reflexes had improved, along with the force of her attacks. After easily taking down the mage while the templar killed the other creature, Laryll glanced at her hands and realized that the magical energy she had received must have enhanced her skills. Maybe it was just because of the Fade, but she was in no hurry to complain.

The fatigued knight faced the elf. "Thank you, friend", he sounded relieved and peaceful. "I can finally rest, be free of these nightmares." The templar's body became wavy and his voice echoed. "I can see you are not supposed to be here, so I will give you my ability. It should help you, just like you helped me."

Laryll would have wished to ask the human if he had seen Zevran or the others, but the spirit lifted his palm over the her, and she felt her skin tingling. Then the knight was gone and on the spot where he had stood, another pedestal appeared.

Dog's woofing and prancing between the stand and Laryll made the elf sigh and smirk at the mabari. "The dead have been quite generous today, haven't they?"

What a shame the animal couldn't laugh. That would have broken the awkward silence.

0-0-0-0-0

With still no sign of the rest of the party or the guardians, Laryll and Dog had traveled to a region where flames whipped the ground and the walls and the air was smoky. It was possible to breathe normally, you just had to watch your step. Burning darkspawn and other creatures didn't make that easy and Laryll found herself dodging more fire than swords and teeth. Luckily Dog made sure the enemies wouldn't get too close if the elf had to search for a better position. Their teamwork proved fruitful and flawless. Some blazing monsters got a taste of Laryll's new shape shifting ability, which allowed her to take a form of an Arcane Horror looking spirit. The ability granted her spell-casting techniques and against opponents in this area a freezing spell came in more than handy.

A few rat holes later the duo came across another templar and a raging demon. The flaming knight didn't seem to listen to reason, but assaulted. Laryll left the demon to Dog while she met a sword with her blades. Evading blow after blow the elf was able to get behind her enemy and backstab him. Parrying the templar's next attack turned out to be harder and Laryll got a bloody cut on her arm. She gritted her teeth together and kicked the spirit, disorienting him. Without delay the daggers used the opening and got buried into the templar's stomach.

The man grunted and slumped down. Dog's alarming yelp got Laryll's attention and she shape shifted. In her arcane form she finished the demon with a crushing spell, which immobilized the creature and slowly killed it. After transforming back to her normal self, Laryll briefly examined the mabari's injury on its neck. She sliced a part of her shirt's hem and bandaged the animal's wound with it, ignoring her own.

"You are strong, and kind", the templar said in a low voice and coughed. "You fight, even when the odds are against you, living one."

When Laryll had nursed Dog, she glanced at the knight. "Have you seen any others like me? People who are not dead, but are trapped in the Fade?"

"I'm afraid I can't help you with that", the man laughed and his body started to fade. "However, I can give you my power. Wear it to achieve your goal, whatever it may be."

The elf shut her eyes and shivered from the energy the templar handed to her. As soon as she looked again, she and the mabari were the only ones present. The chills she had felt changed into comfortable warmth. It reinforced Laryll's will to find everyone and flee this place, once and for all.

A new pedestal had materialized upon the templar's disappearance. The map on it showed an area by the name of Mages Asunder. Laryll didn't fancy fighting an army of mages by herself, but she had no choice. She and Dog stood beside the stand and in an instant the magical light took them to their destination.

One very distinctive thing made sure that Laryll still remembered she was in the Fade. The bookshelves in the room where she had ended up were floating. Everything was still a mix of yellow, black and brown and the elf had to rub her eyes sometimes due to haziness. Hearing her footsteps so clearly annoyed her and even Dog tried to be as quiet as it could.

Suddenly Laryll picked up voices from the next room while walking along a corridor. The mabari was smart not to growl and the redhead prepared by testing her recently gained form. She changed into a burning man with some leather armor and her daggers. She couldn't feel the fire and had a hunch that this ability possessed some fire-based spells. Luckily Dog identified her regardless the appearance.

Laryll silently counted to three and opened the door, intending to surprise anyone who had been speaking inside. The situation reversed as the two humans in the room had been ready and cast their spells at the elf.

"Run, Dog run!" Laryll screamed and waved her arm at the mabari.

Just before two fireballs exploded on the spot where Laryll had stood, the war hound managed to get to safety. It let out a terrified bark when the elf couldn't do the same and she got hidden into a sea of flames. The mages had pleased smirks on their faces and they were about to take a look to ensure the target was dead.

One of them couldn't even gasp when a dagger flew in his throat. After the fire began to die out, the other mage gathered mana into his fingers. Laryll was uninjured and rushing at the enemy, grabbing her second blade tightly. A crackling bolt of lightning hit her, but she ignored the pain and stroke. The weapon cut the mage's chest and he fell to one knee.

"Dog!" commanded the elf and took a couple of steps away.

The mabari smelled fresh blood and charged at the human. His horrified gaze had no impact on the animal and violently Dog sunk its teeth into the opponent's flesh. Its jaws almost ripped the mage's heart out, though it didn't took that much to finish him.

With a haste Laryll abandoned the Burning Man's shape and huffed. "Look at you", she smiled at the mabari. "Could you at least wipe your mouth?"

A happy roll on the ground was the war hound's only answer.

"Actually, let's leave it like that", Laryll corrected her words. "You might scare our enemies away, so we don't have to fight every one of them."

Having enough of talking to herself and receiving nothing but barks and whines as replies, the elf sheathed her daggers and kept her legs moving. Getting ambushed by mages was not on today's schedule. Not that any of this was.

0-0-0-0-0

Signs of exhaustion on Laryll were quite visible. After her first encounter with mages in the Fade, she had witnessed four more battling against each other. The one who had survived eventually died due to his wounds. The sight had sickened Laryll, but she got a grip of herself. All the guardians were still alive somewhere, and in order to find them, the islands had to be searched thoroughly. Enemies were waiting around almost every corner and it was not effortless task to deal with them. The Spirit and Burning Man forms were essential when mages fiercely had kept the push on, throwing every bit of mana they had at Laryll and Dog. The mabari was fast enough to reach the opponents before they could damage it badly. The most effective tactic would have been to engage mages in the melee, but to avoid getting burned by fireballs Laryll had used the spells she owned when having shape shifted. Only when the enemy had been weakened greatly, the elf would draw her daggers and finalize the job.

Laryll had just pulled one of her blades out of a mage's corpse when a sting on her side made her groan. Her opponent had shot some kind of stone projectile at her, causing disturbing pain. But her ears told her there was no time to rest. A male voice was speaking behind the next door. It sounded like he was giving instructions, so there had to be more with him.

After wiping sweat from her forehead, Laryll squeezed her fists which held the weapons and attempted to eavesdrop. The man was saying something about a powerful fire magic which made Laryll to take the shape of Burning Man, just in case.

Abruptly the talking ceased and it got quiet. The wooden door was shattered and sharp pieces scattered in the air, some of them hitting and slicing Laryll. She got knocked back from the force and after regaining her balance, a senior mage with four students were facing her.

"Kill the intruder!" the man shouted and began to prepare another spell, others following his example.

_Shit, this is not good_, was Laryll's only thought at the moment. Her sole strategy was to dash and hope to get to the mages before they could destroy her. First she launched a fireball at the enemies while in her current form. Three of them fell prone from the impact and Laryll took the opportunity. She changed back to normal and with great speed ran forward. Dog charged as well, its eyes fixed on one of the humans laying on the ground.

The rogue's plan would have worked if two mages hadn't escaped the blast radius. Their magic reached Laryll and she cried when the spells hit her back, felling her. She got a minor scratch on her face, but that was the least of her worries. All the mages, except for the one Dog kept pinned down, had been able to get up and were ready to slay her.

_Zev..._

There was a gust of wind and the senior caster turned around to see what was going on. He roared orders, but got soon interrupted by a cone of electricity. While he was stunned from the attack, the pupils pointed at a woman who had appeared out of nowhere. Her magical shield blocked all the spells and one mage got frozen to death when she acted again.

Systematically the woman wiped out the weaker enemies, consuming a frightening amount of mana. Laryll could just lean against her arms and watch, although she did call for Dog when the mage teacher grabbed his staff. There was no need for the white haired woman to help the mabari so she finished the rest of the acolytes.

The chaos was over sooner than anyone could have anticipated. Laryll was in no state to defend herself, so she wished the woman was not going to kill her too. Dog however ran to their sudden savior, its tiny tail wagging. As the stranger patted the war hound, Laryll could finally see her face. She knew this person, but was quite sure there were no eyes glowing with light before.

"Wynne?" she carefully inquired.

The mage smiled and approached the elf. "Yes, and no", answered a resounding, sincere voice and she crouched beside Laryll. "Wynne is still within me. It was necessary for me to take over her body while in the Fade. Hold still, please." The healing magic from her palms closed the wounds on the redhead's arm and body and cured the pain on her side.

Laryll felt her strength coming back to her and got back on her feet with the woman's aid. "If you're not Wynne, then who are you?"

"I am the spirit of Faith, residing inside this body", Faith replied. "I have been seeking the guardians of the Sloth Demon's domain in order to free Wynne from this dream, but when I sensed their power, I knew I couldn't defeat them alone."

"So that's why you're here?" Laryll guessed.

"Indeed. You have been going to right direction thus far, obtaining the abilities which are required to slay Sloth. You also need them to get to the guardians, whereas I, being originally from this world, can go as I please. We have the best chance by combining our powers."

The elf nodded. If a human like Wynne had allowed this Faith to possess her, then maybe it could be trusted. She didn't know enough of these things, but her alarm clocks weren't ringing and nothing made her to doubt the woman's words. The keeper Valendrian in Denerim had told her that not only evil demons occupied the Fade. Good spirits also lived there and perhaps Faith was one of them. Plus there really weren't any other suggestions, so teaming up with Wynne – or what was inside her – seemed a better option than wandering and getting lost.

* * *

**Notes: _perrito - doggy_**

**If I use the word 'rogue' of Laryll, I don't mean a characteristic. It is a class of fighters who use more dexterity than strength and often dual-wield daggers, like in Dragon Age. I try to be descriptive when I write (not too much, I don't want to be Tolkien), though I do not wish to write English which wouldn't seem to be mine, if you know what I mean. I've already learned much after only 14 chapters and I'll definitely keep going, thanks to my readers! :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**My god, over 7200 words... I had to get this part done in one chapter, even though it turned out to be such a monster. I personally wasn't that big of a fan of the Fade quest and still managed to include this much of the story to it.**

**I love writing action scenes and make blood spill (no not in RL) and I know there are people who prefer more drama and things like that and those who'd rather skip all the fighting. I try my best at pleasing my readers and it's nice I've received constructive feedback already, thank you!**

**I'm going to leave you to survive this extra-long chapter. Enjoy!**

Even though many would complain about windy weather, Laryll longed for the cool breeze. The Fade was so unnatural and hollow and it felt like you were locked in a chamber, traveling through portals and teleporters in endless cycle. No birds were singing, you could only hear this ghostly sound all over the place. The rustling coming from the party's footsteps was music to the elf's ears compared to the dreamworld's own orchestra.

Faith had a stunning amount of power which impressed Laryll. They had encountered a spirit fighting against golems and mages. While she was unsheathing her daggers, Faith had cast a spell which froze the stone creatures. Leaving them to Laryll's new companion seemed like the best idea and Dog had already picked the mages as its targets. Laryll was not going to get surprised for the second time, so she quickly transformed into her caster form and halted one of the human enemies with a spell. While the mage was helpless, she cut her and the wounds were lethal. Faith had no problems with the golems. Her strategy had been to freeze them, retreat and shoot a hard, magical stone projectile at them, inflicting massive damage and tearing bits of the opponents' armor off. Another swing of Laryll's blade finished the mage Dog had chewed badly and Wynne's protector launched the rest of her mana at the animated statues in a form of a fireball.

"You...you killed them", the shaking spirit stuttered, exchanging looks with Laryll and the woman with glowing eyes. "By the Maker, I was sure they were immortal. I tried so hard, but they wouldn't go down!"

Before Laryll could say anything she thought of being smart, Faith raised her hand on the spirit's head and sighed after a while. "This poor soul has died during his dreams and is now trapped within, forced to live through nightmares over and over again."

The man blinked and his mouth dropped. "You are...a spirit of the Fade, aren't you?"

"Yes", Faith nodded. "And you are now free, if I'm not mistaken."

"I...don't know how to repay you", the spirit rubbed his palms together, but met Laryll's gaze suddenly. "I saw your ability earlier, how you shape shifted. I... I can give my power to you, it should be of use...I think."

"At ease, young one", Faith smiled. "Any aid you could provide us would be priceless."

The dreamer managed to grin a little and he lifted his fingers above the redhead. "Thank you", his voice was full of joy before the energy from him transmitted to Laryll and the human became all blurry, finally vanishing completely.

Faith glanced at the elf. "You alright?"

"Yeah", Laryll answered and sensed great strength inside her body. It made her wonder just how powerful Morrigan actually had to be if she could use this kind of magic at will.

"Then we must keep going", the gentle being said as she walked. "I believe you have all the forms you need to reach the guardians. I'm pretty sure the one in this region is close, so let's look around."

Laryll agreed and Dog was eager to continue too. Clearing all the main islands could get them to Zevran and the Wardens and that, besides confronting Sloth in order to end this, was all that mattered.

After having hurried through many paths and breaking huge doors with the elf's new power of turning into a Stone Golem, the group had come to a room where the first guardian, Slavren. Faith had snorted when seeing the creature, calling it weak and pitiful. And she had been right. The abomination had been easily defeated with Laryll's Spirit form and her mage companion's spells. Dog's disorienting howl had put the last nail on the guardian's coffin, leaving the monster vulnerable to the rogue's spinning daggers.

When the fight was over, a pedestal appeared on a wide, low platform and it was shining with bright light. Laryll glimpsed at the sight and approached the object. She was about to show the map to Faith when something snatched her attention. The rune marking the region they currently were in had become more distinctive.

"It means the guardian is dead and the barrier shielding Sloth has abated", the spirit explained while leering at the other locations. "I don't think there's any particular order in which you have to kill these beasts."

"Clockwise it is, then?" Laryll suggested.

"Well, this area called Templar's Nightmare is certainly very alluring, don't you think?" Faith made Wynne smirk, which seemed a bit weird.

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll was glad she and Dog hadn't entered this island on their own and without the transformation techniques. Abominations had attacked them as soon as the party had opened the first door. Defeating the enemies hadn't proved difficult when you could slam them with Golem's fists. The elf had even remembered Alistair's advice and had kept her distance when the dead creatures exploded. Even an Arcane Horror had awaited in an ambush and paralyzed Laryll before she could react. However, the effect got soon dispelled by Faith's magic and the spirit told the elf to rely on brute force. Thinking that was an excellent idea, Laryll shape shifted into Stone Golem and threw a rock at the monster. It knocked the opponent down and Dog took the opportunity to viciously shred the target.

"Please, Dog, I promise you it is dead already", the elf tried not to look at the mess the mabari had created. But she couldn't resist scratching behind the animal's ears when it barked and panted happily.

Faith scanned the surroundings and noticed a mouse hole on the ground. It tapped Laryll's shoulder and pointed at the discovery.

"Are you going to teleport to me like Dog has?" the redhead had to make sure before going forward.

"This may be Sloth's realm, but the whole Fade is my home", Faith laughed a little. "I can follow you wherever you go, just like our friend covered in fur."

That was assurance enough for Laryll and she changed into a mouse. With silent padding, she dived into the hole, not aware of where it would take her.

It was fortunate the form provided a skill to move stealthy, because once going through the portal Laryll encountered something she had never seen before. A giant purplish creature with large horns and arms stood in the corner of the room. It seemed the monster hadn't spotted the mouse, even though it faced at the hole's direction, drool dripping from between its bestial teeth.

There was a small gap between the ogre and wall, just enough space for an elf like Laryll to get behind the enemy and cut its back. With cautious steps the tiny animal scurried across the room, keeping an eye on the large creature which continued its grumbling. The elf was in a perfect position, she just had to be as fast as a wild river in order to execute her intent.

When the moment presented itself, Laryll turned back to normal and drew her daggers. The ogre's speed couldn't match the rogue's, so it received a deep cut near its spine. A horrible roar filled the air and the monster swung its arms, attempting to grab the attacker. Laryll ducked and retreated, quite shocked of the strength the opponent gained from fury alone. But she was not going to let it discourage her. While the ogre took its time to recover from the surprise hit, the elf gave the stage to the form of Stone Golem. Ground shook when she stomped forward and punched the enemy with enormous force.

She prepared to repeat the attack, but the monster crouched a little and lowered its head. Before Laryll could guess what was going to happen, the creature charged with quickness you would never have expected from such giant. It emptied the elf's lungs and knocked her prone, reminding her that it was still her body. The ogre grunted and wanted to end the fight, so it lifted its arm up high, like it was gathering power for next attack.

A mabari's sharp teeth around the creature's wrist made it stop and concentrate on the new threat. Laryll scrambled back on her feet and told Dog to let go. The command was heard and the war hound dropped down. It began to search another good spot, flanking the target with Golem. While Dog's barking confused the enemy for a second, Laryll – or the statue made of stone – jolted the ground by hitting it a couple of times, which resulted in the ogre getting stunned. A well aimed fist at the monster nearly snapped its neck and the redhead decided to finish her opponent in her own form. Dog kept the beast still, giving Laryll the chance to shape shift and slice the ogre's throat. It got drained from blood and another obstacle had been removed.

After putting the weapons away, the elf glanced around and noticed Faith beside the door. "Have you been standing there the whole time?" she frowned.

"I was curious", the spirit gave a smile and freed its crossed arms. "You plan your battles well it seems. Even without the Fade's powers, you are extraordinary. May I ask where you learned to fight?"

Laryll wasn't sure what was the purpose of Faith's question, but she shrugged and her eyes glinted. "Zev was the first one who put a dagger in my hand. His mother got so angry when I fumbled and cut myself. We trained a bit in secret, nothing too serious. I was just a brat after all." She paused and gazed at the dead ogre. "When I got adopted, I kept Zev's dagger and continued to train, because it made me feel like I was with him again. My adoptive mother soon found out, but she didn't order me to stop. Instead, she taught me. Everything she knew of wielding two daggers. Of course I didn't kill anything until I was older. Although... she never saw the first deer I hunted or how I utilized the skills she showed me to defend the alienage."

Faith didn't break the respectful silence. Even though it had met many people who had been crushed by their past, the elf still emanated warm light and kept her chin up. While looking through Wynne's eyes at the Circle, the spirit had witnessed Laryll's ability and her strongest traits. Faith hadn't made an opinion about Zevran, who seemed to be this fighter's source of power, her reason to risk her life and push.

"Come on", the rogue headed at the door. "We have to find the others, the small-talk can wait."

_You will make things very interesting_, Faith thought and grinned to itself.

0-0-0-0-0

Going through all the flames was not a problem for Laryll in her Burning Man form, but she had not thought of the mabari. She was fortunate to travel with Faith, who could make Dog pass the fire walls without getting burned by just teleporting the two of them. The spirit really was able to go wherever it wanted in an instant while remaining in the Fade.

More abominations tried to hinder the party's progress, but after slaying an ogre, Laryll felt like nothing could stop them now. With a clever combination of Spirit shape's and Faith's spells, the enemies fell one after another. Anyone who was persistent enough to start crawling after such attacks was easy prey for Dog.

They even came across an Arcane Horror again, but this one was weaker. It couldn't use any strong magic before a smashing prison of spiritual energy had caught it, slowly damaging it and leaving the creature open for the mabari's claws. Faith cast a cone of lightning which took care of the other monsters in the room. Laryll was tired, but didn't give even a thought to resting. Her blades were bloody and all she could hear in her head was a certain Antivan's nagging about how the weapons needed to be maintained.

Zevran's imagined voice cheered the elf up and her mind was set. Weird levitating bookshelves and creepy statues didn't fluster her anymore. She would pay a thousand gold pieces to see colors of the real world. She would pay even more to see Zevran.

The island's guardian, Vereveel, was strong and could cast many harmful spells. Laryll got frozen by cold energy and couldn't shape shift. Her savior was Dog that leaped forward and dug its teeth into the demon's leg. Faith melted the ice around Laryll and healed her quickly before the elf rushed to help the mabari. With the being's advice she changed into Burning Man and blasted Vereveel with a lash of fire. The guardian panicked from the flames and staggering backwards was a grave mistake. Faith shot a bolt of electricity at the creature and Dog was more than pleased to have the last strike.

Laryll was her own self again and she sighed after unsheathing the weapons. "Two down, three more to go before Sloth", she sounded hopeful, but lifted her brow when seeing Faith's wondering look. "What's wrong?"

The spirit turned its head. "I can sense one of our companions. The male Warden, I think."

For a moment Laryll had wished it to be the assassin, though she would never abandon any of her friends. "Where?" she asked.

Faith approached the pedestal in the room and stared at the map. "The smaller region here", it pointed, "it is connected to the areas which don't have their guardians anymore. Our templar is there."

The elf's eyes got filled with light. Killing the demon bosses not only dispelled Sloth's protective ward, but also gave access to the isles further away. And on those isles were the Wardens and Zevran.

"We can't waste any more time", Laryll said, her pupils sharp.

Faith wished to handle the guardians first, but could not tell the rogue to make her companions wait longer. This experience had been ruthless and tiring, so seeing another friendly face would definitely be welcome. "Let's go then", the spirit replied.

0-0-0-0-0

It was something Laryll would have never expected. The world they had entered was gloomy and cold. Rain poured from the dark sky and washed the blood on grass and stones. Bodies lied everywhere, swords and axes stuck on them and pieces of armor were scattered around the battlefield. A lone tower in the distance cast its shadow over the killing zone and some soldiers had been crushed by loose boulders from a broken bridge.

There were also a lot of dead darkspawn. Both sides had taken huge casualties and it seemed there were no survivors. No cries of help, no weeping of children and women. The silence and the sight made the elf tremble a bit and she patted Dog in order to calm herself.

Faith had been totally quiet until it opened its mouth. "Ostagar", it mumbled. "We're at Ostagar where the King died."

"But why?" Laryll glanced around.

"Our templar isn't just dreaming. This is his nightmare and he's been imprisoned within."

It made a lot of sense. Alistair hadn't commented much when Iselda had explained what kind of tragedy Ostagar had been. She remembered the Warden having mentioned a man named Duncan who had recruited both Alistair and Iselda. He had been slain during the battle, along with King Cailan.

As Laryll was recalling the female Warden's words, she heard a loud thump and chinking of metal. Swiftly she turned her head and peered at the source of the noise. A couple of steps away from her, near a killed ogre, was an armored figure on his knees next to two human bodies. The person had dropped his weapon and was still. A flash of lightning exposed his face momentarily.

"Alistair?" Laryll carefully neared the Warden.

"They're dead", Alistair muttered in a low voice, still staring at the humans on the ground. "All of them and I couldn't do anything. Duncan, Cailan...even Iselda."

"This is bad", Faith got worried. "The illusion is so strong it has managed to create false memories for him."

The elf slowly crouched beside the templar. "None of this is your fault. You are in the Fade, the dream is forcing you to blame yourself."

"I abandoned Iselda to help Duncan", Alistair shook his head and clenched his fists, "only to see how an ogre squeezed the life out of my brother and the monsters overpowered Duncan, slashing him till all of his blood had been spilled." He gazed at the high structure at the end of the crashed bridge. "When I took a glimpse of the tower again, I saw an army of darkspawn marching inside. Most of them came out moments later. Iselda didn't."

_Brother? _the elf astonished.

"Don't let the illusion fool you, Alistair!" Laryll didn't notice how her hand grabbed the Warden's. "Iselda is alive, waiting for you to snap out of this and help her!" She swallowed and loosened her grip once realizing what she had done. "Don't use this dream to mourn Duncan and the King. Do it in the real life, with those who still are with you."

Laryll had had no idea how bitter her words would taste. She had longed for meeting Zevran's mother, but once she had, the encounter had reminded her of what was important. The price to be with her dead loved ones was too high. Zevran, Cyrion, Shianni... They all were there for her, ready to listen and talk about the people she had lost. She didn't need the Fade to be in touch with her mother and _mam__á_. She carried them with her, in her heart and soul.

The elf's eyes were moist, but she didn't allow herself to cry. Alistair seemed to finally hear her, his deserted look aimed at the redhead and lips searching for voice. Suddenly the whole city of Ostagar had vanished. All the corpses and buildings were gone and everything had returned to be the same scenery as in the other islands. Blank, serene, yellow.

"Laryll?" the Warden breathed and scanned the area. "What...in the Maker... What happened?"

Faith gaped in amazement. Normally, a nightmare this personal should be able to trap a person for good. Sloth's power should have made it impossible to break out. The spirit had not seen anyone talk someone out of their dreams before. And Laryll wasn't even a mage. It was only her willpower and determination which had guided her to free the templar.

"Never mind that", the elf smiled and hoisted herself up. "We're in the Fade in case you weren't aware. We have enemies to defeat and people to save, so a thorough description of the situation really must wait."

Alistair's million questions got forgotten when Dog thrust its muzzle on his lap and barked.

"Iselda", the Warden got on his feet all of a sudden. "The demon, it cast a spell and we fell asleep, so... Where are the others?"

"In order to reach them, we have to kill the guardians who protect Sloth's realm", Faith stepped forward. "We should move on."

No matter how rude it was, Alistair couldn't stop staring at Wynne's glowing light blue eyes, opening and closing his mouth.

"Later, Alistair", Laryll insisted and went to the teleporting pedestal.

The Warden scratched his head, sighed and awkwardly followed the being. He couldn't even picture what kind of discussion he and the elf were going to have.

0-0-0-0-0

It had took a lot of convincing, but in the end Faith had been successful. The spirit had made a point that the demons should be killed before rescuing Iselda and Zevran. The reason for this had been its concern after seeing Alistair's dream. Faith believed the nightmares would become weaker if Sloth was to lose the guardians which strengthened it, thus giving a better chance of freeing their companions. Even though Laryll had protested and reminded that they had succeeded in Alistair's case, the spirit had been resolute.

So the party had hunted the demons first. Laryll had never been so fast and precise during a fight. Her only thought had been to clear the path quickly and find Zevran. Spending time in the Fade felt like she was drifting away from the Antivan and that gave her more strength than anything had before. It had made her so focused that occasionally she had forgotten that Faith plus the others had been transported there and had fought too.

Rhagos from the Burning Tower had not been prepared to meet Faith's spells and the Warden's sword. While Alistair and Dog had kept the guardian concentrated on them, Laryll had positioned herself behind the monster and her daggers had got tainted with blood when she had stroke the beast's back several times. Uthkiel, the guardian in the Darkspawn Invasion district didn't have any better luck. Despite its form of an ogre, Laryll and her friends had showed no fear. The elf had shape shifted and slammed the demon hard with Stone Golem's fists. Having no time to get confused of Laryll's new ability, Alistair had cut the ogre's arm and Faith had been able to cast a deadly prison of spirit magic around the creature. The enemy's eye got the last blow from the rogue's blade and Uthkiel fell into its own pool of blood.

After defeating the two guardians, the group had come to the island where Laryll had met Niall. The senior enchanter was patiently waiting for the brave fighters who had entered the final demon boss' room. He could not hear the battle, because they had gone through a door which can be opened only by spirits. But seeing Wynne with Laryll and the Warden had made the mage to be at ease. Confronting Faith had been a surprise, though Niall recalled how Wynne had sometimes said that she had a spirit watching over her. He didn't know why Faith had possessed his fellow enchanter, but he trusted her and therefore hadn't asked.

While being in his thoughts, Niall jumped a little when Laryll flew from the door in front of him in her Spirit form, Faith appearing instantly beside her with Alistair and Dog. "Did you do it?" the mage blinked.

"Yeah", Laryll changed back and took a deep breath. "Yevena, along with all of the guardians, is dead." Her eyes shifted at Faith.

The spirit lowered its chin. Niall felt how it played with mana, winding it around its twitching fingers. He also perceived the serious, yet concerned look on Laryll's face. The elf had been in such a hurry to go and kill Yevena that there hadn't been any time to exchange more than a few words and Niall understood why.

Magical energy surrounding Faith was soon depleted and it looked relieved. "I can feel the Warden and the assassin, but I couldn't get to them. They must be dreaming as well."

"Then let's hope terminating the guardians first was worth it", Laryll didn't mean to sound so blunt, but the thought of Zevran being trapped in a horrible illusion like Alistair had been occupied her mind.

Dog whimpered and pricked up its ears. Its keen nose sniffled the air and the ground. It seemed it had picked up a scent. The mabari barked and started to walk around the area. The others watched its weird behavior until Alistair whistled Dog to come to him.

"You found Iselda, didn't you?" the templar wished his hunch was correct.

The war hound woofed and jumped, like it was doing a happy dance.

Laryll saw Alistair's face, which made her to lay her hand on his shoulder. "We can't decide who should we save before another, so I think we could split up. You bring Iselda back, I'll go to Zevran."

The Warden turned. "You sure?"

"Yes", Laryll nodded and went to the pedestal. "We can reunite in the center island where Sloth is." Behind her grin was anxiety which the others couldn't see.

"I shall wait here with Niall", Faith stated and got the elf's leer as a response. "I can track you without an issue now that the guardians are dealt with. I will hear you if you call me, remember that." Plus the spirit knew these two preferred to go alone.

"So we're ready?" Laryll directed that at Alistair.

When glancing at the small isle where Iselda would be, the Warden felt a knot in his stomach. The memories from the nightmare he had were vague, but there was one thing about it which haunted him: a tower, crawling with darkspawn and violently killing a female Grey Warden.

"Of course", the templar had never been as certain as he was now.

0-0-0-0-0

Alarms rang everywhere and guards shouted commands. Dying mens' gurgling could barely be heard over jingling of swords and roars of soldiers. Recent rain had watered the stone walls and streets. Blood ran through the cracks of cobblestones and houses had been set on fire. A fragile cry of a child made Alistair to almost cover his ears until he convinced himself that this was a dream, just like Wynne – Faith – had told him.

Dog was with him and it already searched for Iselda. They ran through the ruined town and Alistair had no other option than to rely on the mabari's senses. The place was unfamiliar to him, but Dog trotted around like the area was its own territory. However, time for wondering was not now and the templar continued to follow the war hound.

So many people were lying dead behind every corner. It was a miracle none of the fighters spotted the duo. Alistair wasn't even sure which were enemies and which allies, if there were any.

Dog let out a bark when they came to a huge house. The front door was bashed in and the guards had been slain with spears. You couldn't see or hear anything from inside, indicating that the building was empty.

"She's here?" Alistair frowned and peeked through the broken entry.

The mabari ignored him and dashed in. The Warden yelled it to stop, but his orders didn't reach. Sighing, he kicked some of the wood out of the way and ran after Dog.

The house had to be owned by a noble family. There were family crests hanging on walls and some fine furniture was still intact, most of it smashed in pieces. Red carpets were partly burned and one of the columns supporting the roof was on verge of crumbling. As Alistair climbed the stairs, he noticed dead maids. One of them had been carrying a set of silver dishes.

Dog barked again and the Warden hastened up. The mabari disappeared into a room upstairs and its panting could be heard from there.

When Alistair caught up, his eyes widened. Four humans lied on floor, brutally killed. One of them was a child and no mercy had been shown towards any of them. The older man and woman had weapons, but they probably had lost their lives before they could have fought back.

The mabari's whimpering had no effect on the crying female, who was on her knees beside the bodies, too shocked to talk.

"Iselda", Alistair recognized his friend, only just. He had never seen the Cousland's tears nor being so idle. "It's me, can you hear me?"

Iselda's lips trembled when she slightly opened her mouth, drinking salty liquid. "Leave me, whoever you are", she sobbed. "I am such a failure. Couldn't protect my parents. Couldn't save my brother's family. Fergus...killed by Howe's troops, just like everyone else."

_Sloth was going to pay for this_, Alistair cursed. Making her to see her past again, unforgivable. She hadn't expressed grief or misery when mentioning what had occurred at Highever, her home. Alistair hadn't been prepared how stunning the incident actually had been. For Iselda to overcome something like this, her strength was unbelievable.

The templar flinched when repeating the Warden's words in his head. "Your brother Fergus got away, don't you remember?" he gently grabbed Iselda's shoulder. "He's still alive and we will find him-"

"Stop lying to me, stranger!" Iselda snapped and swung her arm, hitting Alistair's cheek. "Can't you read the situation? I've lost everyone! Leave me alone!"

Alistair disregarded the pain and took the woman's hand. "You know me Iselda", he used his free thumb to wipe her tears. "I also said that I didn't have anyone when Duncan died. But you opened my eyes. I still had you, just like you still have me."

"I...I...", Iselda muttered in a shaky voice, confused.

"And Dog", Alistair smirked and put the Warden's palm on top of the mabari's head. "And Fergus and your friends. You are not alone at all. I promise to you, we will avenge the Couslands. I will not rest until I've helped you with that."

The darkness in Iselda's wet eyes began to withdraw and lively light replaced it. She stroke Dog's fur and the mabari licked her. Its panting made the Warden give a small laugh.

"You heard father and mother, right Dog?" Iselda looked at her animal companion. "They gave their lives so that we could escape. And we need to find Fergus, don't we? I... It would be wrong to sit here. They wouldn't approve." Her gaze met the other Warden's. "Would they?"

"Your parents knew you would do the right thing", Alistair swept strands of hair from Iselda's face. "They know you miss them. I know you miss them and I will do everything I can to make you happy."

It was the first time Alistair got to see how the world of nightmare was abruptly gone. The dead humans were nowhere to be seen and all the buildings had dematerialized. You could't describe the weather anymore and the silence was unique.

"Huh?" Iselda glanced around. "What did I... Alistair?"

"Feeling better?" the templar rose up offered his hand, helping his friend to get on her feet.

"Can't say, because I don't... What happened to your face?"

"The result of spoiling Sloth's gruesome sandcastle."

Iselda had no idea what Alistair meant. Her mind was quite messy and it caused a minor pain when she attempted to recall the previous moments. Hazy images had no meaning, so she just shook her head and touched the red spot on the templar's cheek.

"You got hurt because of me, didn't you?" she already knew the answer.

Alistair concealed Iselda's warm fingers with his palm. "Totally worth it."

The female Warden actually blushed and the sound of a new pedestal appearing behind her conveniently got her attention. What abashed her even more was that Dog cheerfully sprinted towards the shining object.

Alistair chuckled and tousled Iselda's hair. "Laryll guaranteed to tell me a hell of a story after this is over, so you should join us. I'm sure she can explain this better than I."

Iselda snorted. "No doubt about that."

"Aw, now you have hurt me both physically and mentally", Alistair acted like his heart had been pierced.

0-0-0-0-0

Rain seemed to be in common with the nightmares Sloth had created. It was heavy and loud but without thunder at least. The air had a familiar smell in it, but Laryll couldn't figure out what it was. The road she was walking on was made of stone. Weed pushed through the rocks which were quite slippery due to water. Trees beside the path didn't form a thick forest.

The elf took steady steps and didn't look back. The atmosphere felt so ponderous. Every time she lifted her foot she got more scared. There really hadn't been a plan when she and Faith had rescued Alistair. Laryll had thought what Zevran or her mother would have said in such situation. But that wouldn't work this time. She knew next to nothing of the Antivan's life during the past thirteen years and it was likely his dream was going to be some kind of event from that period.

Even when the rain hid most of the other sounds, Laryll was able to hear footsteps in the woods. Immediately she sought what had caused it and saw a back of a figure going behind the trees.

"Zev?" Laryll ran after the person. Sticks got snapped when her boots stomped on them and the moist moss squelched under her. She dodged the trunks and circled large stones, eyes fixed on the direction where the figure had gone.

_No matter what, I will free you._

The elf stopped and huffed. She tossed her wet hair and wiped her forehead. Clothes under her leather armor were all sticky which was the least of her worries. The person she had chased was in front of her, standing beside a grave. It was simple, yet well-kept. No grass covered it and pure white stones had carefully been set around the tomb. Water dripped from the character's blond hair, landing on the grave's metallic nameplate.

"Zev?" Laryll breathed in a low voice.

"What do you need?" Zevran plainly asked.

The redhead winced. "Don't you recognize me?"

"Sorry, but those who I want to be familiar with are all dead", the assassin didn't move. He just kept staring at the grave.

Tears began to well in Laryll's eyes, but she rubbed them away and slowly walked forward until she was standing next to Zevran. She knew he could see her. He acted the same way as Alistair had, but this felt more cruel.

As the rogue glimpsed the plate on the grave, she read the text on it and looked at the Antivan. "Who was she?" Laryll asked.

After a moment of quiet, Zevran let out a fragile sigh. "Rinna. She was a Crow like me."

"How did she...", the elf halted, uneasy to continue.

"We got information which said she was a traitor. A colleague of mine killed her." The assassin's fingers curled. "When we returned to our headquarters, I found out she was innocent. She got murdered for no reason at all."

Seeing her friend so sad was too unnatural and rare. It affected Laryll and made her shed a single crystal-clear tear before she got a grip of herself. If there was a time to be as strong as possible, this was it. Her crying wouldn't help, quite the opposite.

"Who was she to you?" she tried to understand why the elf saw this nightmare in order to release him from it.

"She...", Zevran paused and was silent for a minute. "I've loved only two women in my life. Rinna was one of them, even though...our relationship was a short one."

It had to be Antiva where the dream had taken them. Laryll finally realized what was the smell she had picked up earlier. It was Antivan leather and the exceptional scent from the high trees you could spot anywhere in that country. And if they were at a Crow's grave, that just confirmed Laryll's analysis.

Zevran had never brought Rinna up, although Laryll couldn't blame him. His lover's fate had been wretched and the elves really hadn't spoken that much of the time they had spent apart. She had opened up to the assassin and though she would not wish to force her companion, she required something which could aid her.

So Laryll kept digging, even if it would deeply hurt her soul. "You're in the Fade, Zev. This is an illusion. You have to wake up."

"Then I have deserved to be locked up here", Zevran muttered. "I watched Rinna die when she was a few meters away from me, begging and crying. I... I was compelled to stop writing letters to Laryll when the Crows recruited me, unable to do nothing for her. The next letter I got from Ferelden was from her father, saying that she had...been killed", the elf couldn't speak the last words clearly and his gaze wandered somewhere in the woods.

_There it is_, the rogue's eyes widened and she turned Zevran to look at her. "I'm not dead. I'm right here Zev, can't you see?"

The Crow stepped back. "What are you playing at, woman?" he snarled. "Did Taliesin send you to torment me? Well he succeeded, now please go before I make you."

Left stunned, Laryll was getting enough of how this nightmare was destroying the Antivan. Faster than her friend could react, she grappled his hands into hers and lifted them. "It's me Zev, I'm Laryll! I don't know any Taliesin! Are you going to let this dream of lies win? Is this how you want to remember Rinna, her grave stained with rain? I won't accept that!"

The assassin wasn't able to tear his gaze away from the elf. Water streamed along her face and mixed with some invisible tears. Just then he noticed the purple colored irises. The most beautiful pair of spheres he had ever encountered. Where had he seen something similar before?

With a gasp, Zevran escaped from the hold. "Illusion", his chest went up and down. "You can't fool me. I don't believe any of this!"

Laryll grabbed Zevran's flailing arms and placed his hands on the sides of her head, making him touch her ears and hair. "I am not fooling you Zev", she almost whispered, not letting go of the elf. "I'm here, alive. Please trust me, _mi __á__mbar_. You have to wake up because I need you. I am not losing you twice."

Feeling the red tresses was like a cure to Zevran. It seemed as if he had regained his sense of seeing other colors than gray and purple. He ran his fingers through Laryll's damp hair and his thumb pursued the shape of a pointy ear. The girl was blushing and her breathing was easily heard. This elf, who had wept for him was strong, determined, beautiful, kind.

The words echoed in the Crow's head. He knew he had used them of someone in the past. _Ámbar_. The elf had called him _ámbar_. With a bit rough movement, Zevran cupped Laryll's cheeks into his palms and a gleaming bead slid across his face.

"_Mi rub__í_?" he asked.

When the elf smiled at him, the Antivan leaned his forehead against Laryll's. "It's truly you", he hummed, his eyes closed. "By the gods, you're alive. I...I thought..."

"I would never depart with you again", the rogue stroke Zevran's hand.

Suddenly the assassin calmly lifted his companion's chin, causing her heart to pound fast when their noses touched. The elves' eyes were so close that Laryll could see her mirror image. She felt the heat from Zevran's body and his breath on her skin. Vivid pics of their time together in Antiva flew in front of her, showing her a reminiscence of the young blond hugging her tightly at the night before she moved to Denerim.

"I trust that you won't, my dear", stated Zevran and stopped Laryll from whatever she was going to say by kissing her.

At first the redhead's pupils shrank and she forgot to take air. The vibes she got when meeting with the Crow's soft lips soon relaxed her and threw her to another dimension. There she was alone with Zevran, her hot cheeks being held by him and rainwater evading their mouths which were hungry for each other. The moment was majestic with all teasing bites and slow, tender kisses. Time had frozen and Laryll was dazed, completely claimed by the Antivan who gave no sign of intending to release the elf.

0-0-0-0-0

_Laryll was swinging her legs, a grumpy look on her face and white bandage wrapped around her arm. The roof of the Dusk was one of the few places Zevran's mother would not come to search for her. If mamá couldn't find her, then she would surely send her little agent._

_ "There you are", the one Laryll had meant snorted behind her._

_ "I'm sulking, so begone Zev", the little girl muttered._

_ The boy wasn't that easily shooed away. He watched his step and joined his friend, whether she liked it or not. "Sorry for getting you in trouble", he sat beside the elf._

_ "You're the one who got yelled at", Laryll sounded depressed._

_ Zevran laughed. "Yeah, it was my fault." He took a glimpse of the elf's arm. "Does it hurt?"_

_ "The stuff mamá put on it stings a little", Laryll replied and saw how the young man had lost his smirk. "Don't blame yourself. I was just careless with the dagger you gave me."_

_ With a sigh Zevran leaned back until his head hit the roof tiles. "Maybe I should hide it so that mother won't get angry at you again."_

_ "No", Laryll pulled her legs up and leered at her friend. "It was a present from you and presents are not supposed to be returned. I'll learn to wield it so that I won't cut myself with it."_

_ Such words sounded hilarious from a five-year old girl. It had been Zevran's mistake when he hadn't told the elf the blade was not meant to start a fight. He simply had wished to give her something which represented strength. The weapon should have been kept in Laryll's room as a decoration, but he hadn't expected the girl to try swinging the weapon. When Zevran had entered the room, his shout had startled Laryll, hence the injury._

_ He pointed at the wounded arm. "In order to prevent that from occurring again, you don't touch the dagger if I'm not there watching. Deal?"_

_ "Okay", nodded Laryll and managed to smile._

_ "Mi rubí is smarter than I thought", Zevran snickered and rose up._

_ "Ruby?" the girl's brow lifted._

_ "That's the color of your hair, isn't it?"_

_ For some reason Laryll checked, even though she knew exactly what kind of hair she had. She shot a glare at Zevran when he tried not to laugh and he fled the scene. As the boy began to descend the ladders, Laryll quickly stood up and ran to the elf._

_ "Ámbar", she uttered._

_ "Eh?" Zevran halted and looked at the girl._

_ "If I'm ruby, then you are amber", Laryll tapped the Antivan's blond head._

_ Bobbing even slightly on ladders was crazy, but still Zevran reached to tuck some tresses behind the girl's ear. "I'll gladly take that nickname", he smirked._

* * *

**Notes: _ámbar - amber_**

**Such a cliffhanger, but I really must get some schoolwork done on the next week, so I may not have a lot of time to write. I'll be back as soon as possible so that we can finally wrap things up in the Fade!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**I'm sorry for the delay and I'm sorry to inform that this wasn't the only break. I'm busy at school due to a couple of assignments which have to be done before Christmas, so I haven't had time to write anything else than the reports for those tasks.**

**That's why: the story will be on break until Christmas**

**The holiday will give me time to write again, so I hope my readers will be patient. In the meantime, any kind of feedback is welcome!**

**Sing some Christmas songs and enjoy!**

From the corner of her eye, Laryll saw how the scenery began to disappear. The rain had ceased and Rinna's grave became blurry. Everything was slowly being replaced with bland colors and the elves would soon be the only sources of life in this island.

A voice inside her told her to let go of Zevran's lips while another was completely silent, letting Laryll enjoy the moment as long as she wished. Her breasts pressed against the assassin's chest, which made her blush hard. She had lifted her hands to touch Zevran's collarbones and was very embarrassed of her panting between the kisses. Tasting something as sweet as sugar sent impulses of heat and pleasure through her body. Never before had she dropped her guard like this. If an enemy was lurking in the shadows, it could most certainly kill her. Though if she were to die now, this was exactly how she would prefer to go.

Suddenly Laryll shivered and pushed Zevran away. The Antivan had opened slightly his eyes, which had made the redhead to see the recovered light in them. The surroundings had returned to normal and the only sound was Laryll's gasping. Leaning against his palm like someone had hit his head, Zevran grunted once and blinked several times before meeting the elf's gaze.

"_Mi...rub__í_?" he muttered and looked around. "Where are we? I... What's wrong? Why do you look so sad, _mi bella_?"

Sad? Laryll felt her face burning and the softness on her mouth. Yet she was sad? But there were no tears, although an emotion of fear spun inside her. What was she afraid of?

"I-I...", she rubbed her arm and avoided her...friend. "You and I, we...uh...", then her pupils rose. "You don't remember?"

Puzzled, Zevran watched how Laryll turned her back to him and she glanced at a glowing pedestal. Magic swirled around it, tempting the elf to come closer and finish this. But Laryll stood frozen, chewing on her lower lip and clenching her fist to hide the twitching finger.

"Laryll...", the assassin began, but got stopped when the rogue whipped her head at him.

"There really isn't time to explain", the elf forced a smile. "We are trapped in the Fade by the demon from the Tower. Iselda and the others are waiting for us in the area where our enemy is, so we should-"

Laryll's chin was captured between the Antivan's bronze thumb an index finger, killing her voice immediately. Every attempt to speak was in vain when Zevran gently and slowly brushed the elf's lips and cheek.

"_Cómo podría olvidar, mi puesta de sol?_" the assassin crooned and pulled the girl into an embrace, stroking her crimson hair.

Hearing her own language was so soothing, yet the words made Laryll stiffen. She couldn't consider the hug just friendly anymore. The heat, safety, care and every other feeling about it had increased fiercely. This man who she had considered as her best companion, her brother, her first childhood crush...

Where had all her courage gone? How could one simple act halt her from touching Zevran like she had done a while ago, when fighting against his nightmare?

A shudder ran through her spine and this time Laryll placed her hand against Zevran's chest, calmly releasing herself from his arms. "Zev, I...", the shaky words came from her mouth, "I...need a moment to wrap my head around...this", she attempted to make a fragile gesture by pointing at her and the Antivan. "Don't get me wrong, I do like you and..."

Laryll scratched her hair and mumbled something unrecognizable. Even the assassin could see her struggle and it both amused and concerned him. The elf he knew was always ready to answer back, caring about the consequences later. But the change before his eyes was as great as the difference between night and day. The memories of Zevran's dream were still messy, but there was one thing he absolutely couldn't forget about: Laryll had been there and she had awaken him when something had squeezed his heart, trying to make it bleed.

An image of the elf who had nearly been killed because of the thoughts she had tried to solve by herself haunted Zevran's mind. _Never again_.

He grinned and leaned forward so that he could whisper into Laryll's ear. "Don't worry, I will wait until stars explode if required, _mi diosa tonta_." After giving a pat on the redhead's shoulder, he started walking to the pedestal, wondering aloud how did it work and what were all the runes on the map it showed.

Left blushed and somehow a bit eased, Laryll stared at the ugly landscape and breathed heavily. She could hear the assassin's voice behind her, telling her to hurry up. Happiness shone from her face, although she still seemed to be unsure. The fear inside her was gradually rising, forcing the elf to close her eyes and dive deeper in order to get answers.

_My love, that is the one thing I'm not sorry about. I'm happy to go for you to survive. Never doubt that._

A small painful groan escaped from Laryll's lips. Quickly she grasped her breast pocket and remained silent, wishing that Zevran hadn't noticed her flinch.

"You okay, my dear?" the assassin asked, revealing that he had seen.

"It's nothing", Laryll turned around and scuttled to her friend, giving him a faint smile.

_You were my first, not that shem_, she thought and smacked quietly.

0-0-0-0-0

"Well that was...exciting", Zevran smirked when the pedestal had teleported him and Laryll. He glanced around but saw no trace of the Wardens or anyone. The silence was getting on his nerves and the speechless elf beside him didn't make things easier. Normally he would just cheer Laryll up with some jokes or compliments of her beauty, but he figured now wasn't an appropriate time to do that. He wouldn't get a desired response right now.

Laryll lifted her gaze and aimed it at a figure who seemed to be waiting for them, gesturing with its long finger at the elves to come closer. The rogue snorted and trotted to the creature, ignoring confused Zevran. Once she was only a couple of steps away from the stranger, a flash of light blinded her for a second, making her raise her arms as a cover. When she was able to open the eyes again, Faith stood there in front of her, accompanied by the humans and Dog.

"Ah, how great it is to see our lovely Wardens in one piece", the assassin laughed and after he had joined Laryll as fast as possible, he stared at the mage. "Now Wynne, I would never say anything ill of you, but you do look a bit...changed."

Faith sneered. "I promise Wynne shall know how kindly you've spoken of her."

The spirit's answer left Zevran perplexed. All he could do was to smile back, hiding the fact that he had no idea what was going on.

"Sloth", Laryll abruptly said, her anger-filled eyes darting at the figure behind Faith.

Everyone else abandoned the reunion too and faced the demon responsible. Iselda gripped tightly the handle of her sword and the mabari on her side growled, teeth exposed. Mana began to swirl under Faith's feet and Alistair moved his leg, like he was ready to charge the enemy. When the Antivan was drawing his daggers, Laryll stepped forward, not looking away even for a moment.

"So it has become to this", Sloth voice sounded as sad as a demon's could. "It is such a shame, I never wanted to spill your blood, Laryll."

The elf's pupils shrank, but she wasn't going to let the creature notice her shock. "What is it that you wish, fiend? Causing such suffering, you must have a reason."

"Demons rarely do", Faith pointed out, but her statement was countered with Sloth's chuckling.

"You are so pure, even after everything you've been through Laryll", the monster was enjoying the banter, though its facial expressions couldn't be seen due to the grim scars and burned flesh. "I granted your wish, didn't I? You should thank me."

The elf had had enough. "Stop using my name so formally. Under any other circumstances I would demand you to tell me how do you know me, but frankly, at a time like this I don't give a damn. Slaying you will free us from the Fade, so I'd rather not chitchat any longer."

Sloth burst into a resounding laugh, startling the others a little. It gathered itself and pointed at the redhead. "Your spirit is as powerful as it has always been, Laryll. That is why I chose you, followed you. You will be mine and this time that woman isn't here to meddle in my plans."

Frozen and unable to say anything, Laryll felt her heart pounding fast. A drop of cold sweat ran along her neck, giving her chills as an after-effect. The templars of alienage hadn't been able to spook her. The Revenant had been ominous, but not scary. The Fade had thrown all sorts of monsters at her, but she hadn't faltered. Yet a single demon leering at her now made the elf more anxious than anything had before. She had no idea who Sloth was referring to or why it knew her name. She was afraid that the answer would be destructive, that it would drain her dry.

_Move, you stupid legs!_ She ordered herself, receiving a negative reaction. Oh how much she wanted to scream and cry in order to get some strength.

"I'm not totally sure of what do you mean, demon", Zevran lightly shifted Laryll, covering her with his own body and sternly glaring at Sloth, "but I assure you that your fingers will be scattered on the ground before you can touch her."

"Count me in", Iselda concurred and unsheathed her reliable weapon, Alistair mimicking her.

"Wynne's friends are my friends, demon", Faith stated and cast a protection spell before grabbing the staff from her back.

In the end, Laryll didn't need tears or shrieks. The Antivan and her other companions had been enough. Their mere presence got rid of the itching on the elf's nose and when she slowly stroked her lips, the lump in her throat vanished. No-one was here alone. They sat around the same fire, shared their food and treated each other as an equal. Just like in the alienage.

_I'm happy to go for you to survive. Never doubt that._

"Not today, not ever again", Laryll whispered to herself and pierced the enemy with her eyes which showed colors of purple and the orange of the sky, melted together.

"I would be disappointed if there were no competition and resistance", the demon's voice was confident and pleased. It unleashed its power which sent a surge of magical energy through the field. The appearance of Sloth had transformed into an ogre and its bellowing rang everywhere in the island.

Faith was going to suggest Laryll to use her abilities, but the elf was already taking the form of Stone Golem. She evaded the confused stares by throwing a heavy punch at Sloth, knocking it back.

"Take the flank!" Iselda yelled and waved at Zevran who quickly obeyed. The Warden thrust her sword and it sank into the ogre's shoulder. Spit and blood stained her face when the opponent roared at her, ready to claw her guts out. She knew Alistair's shield couldn't take the blow.

It was Laryll's massive arm that shielded Iselda from the creature's attack. The sharp claws had no proper effect on the Golem and only scraps of stone detached. The elf spotted a boulder nearby and tramped to it. When Sloth tried to stop her, the assassin sliced its calf, immobilizing the demon.

The rock was easily lifted and Laryll ordered everyone to watch out. With as much strength as she possessed, the rogue hurled the projectile once the others had jumped out of the way. It hit the target and Sloth fell prone, perfectly vulnerable for Zevran's daggers. Four blades decorated the demon's front when the Wardens struck with the Antivan. Huffing, Laryll shape shifted back and waited.

"Marvelous, elf! Splendid!" Sloth laughed in a high voice and got swallowed by a bright light.

"Brace yourselves, this is far from over!" Faith swung her staff to cast another spell which coated their weapons with magical frost.

The ogre was gone and a Rage Demon stood there on its place. While letting out loud cries, it slid to the Wardens and shot a burst of flames at them. Alistair raised his shield even though it wouldn't withstand the heat for long, but for him it was a better plan than to move and risk the fire hitting Iselda.

Someone appeared between him and the demon, making the Warden gasp from shock when the person was being burned. But before he could do anything, the one who had shielded him turned his head.

"Attack it already!" the Burning Man commanded and a pair of daggers shimmered with ice on his back. The weapons and the height indicated that the man was Laryll who seemed to have more abilities than just the power of a stone golem.

After Alistair managed to tear his gaze away from the figure surrounded by fire, he and Iselda charged Sloth. Their blades cut deeply and Faith used freezing magic, knowing it would do the trick against a Rage Demon.

The creature took a couple of staggering steps back, its hand reddening from the blood which streamed from its stomach. "Good, good, keep struggling", it laughed and took a form of an abomination.

"Laryll be careful, that's not a normal-" Zevran tried to say, but couldn't finish his sentence before the rogue transformed into Spirit and cast a spell which trapped Solth in a crushing prison of spiritual magic. Quickly she dismissed the form and dashed forward. Her blades gave two hideous wounds to the demon and she left it to suffer from pain.

"Stop underestimating me, _puto desgraciado_", Laryll glared. Her heart hadn't been consumed with so much hatred in a while. The demon acted like it read her like a book and enjoyed every moment of it. Toying with her was unacceptable. She disregarded the stares aimed at her, gripping the daggers more firmly until her knuckles turned white.

Sloth slumped on its knees once the spell holding it ceased, coughing blood and trembling from chuckling. It continued to grin when it changed into a Shade, an even lesser demon. Floating slightly above the ground, it reached to strike Iselda, but got interrupted by Laryll's attack. One of her daggers pierced the enemy's eye and the other dug into its neck. She twisted and screwed, not paying attention to the crimson which smeared her face. Sloth's roars were music to her ears.

"Enough, _mi rub__í_!" stunned Zevran grabbed the redhead's arms and pulled her away from the creature. When he met Laryll's gaze, the color of his skin paled. The elf's eyes were hollow and dark with fear and rage. Strands of her hair were glued together by sticky blood and her breaths were sharp and fast. There were no visible injuries, but the look Laryll gave to the assassin told him she was hurting badly.

They were not alone, but still Zevran snatched the rogue's chin and claimed her lips gently. 'Oh' was all Iselda was able to respond while Alistair was a bit more surprised of such a straightforward act. Faith was too busy frowning at Sloth that tried hard to get up after the last attack.

The world began to become clearer for Laryll and she couldn't move once realizing that the Antivan was kissing her. Calmly her lids closed and her cheeks warmed. The weapons dropped from her grip, clattering when landing next to her. She touched Zevran, but didn't push him away. All of her negative energy got washed away and she wished for them never to return.

Right after he had let Laryll breathe normally again, the assassin wrapped his arm around the elf's waist and jerked her out of the way before Sloth's long talons got her. The demon's jewelry jingled when it leered at Zevran.

"Very well, dear warrior. No more games", the monster's true form resembled an Arcane Horror. "I will break every bone in your body if you won't surrender otherwise. You shall be mine and your pathetic childhood friend won't stop me."

"We'll see about that", Zevran gave a murderous look.

"Have you forgotten that there's a mage present?" Faith's fingers were leaking with cold magic. She fired a cone of icy air, but Sloth evaded, taking only minor damage.

"You should save your mana in order to heal your companions", the creature smirked and the spirit saw the reason too late. The demon waved its hands and all of a sudden everyone was engulfed by a blizzard.

Laryll cried out when a spike of ice scratched her leg. Zevran promptly caught the elf before she fell and started to lead her out of the storm. He covered his eyes from the snow which felt like needles. The wind concealed most of the sounds, but he could hear movement and hoped that the Wardens and Wynne had managed to get free.

Panting and shivering, Laryll searched for her daggers when Zevran had dragged her out, only to recall that she had dropped them earlier. When she noticed Iselda and Alistair more or less unharmed on the other side of the blizzard, the curses on her tongue died. The spell gradually vanished and the female Warden sighed from relief upon the sight of Dog and the mage who was closing a fresh wound on her side.

"Perhaps an another element would suit you better?" flames swirled on Sloth's palm and the demon was about to throw the fireball at the elves.

"Trust me, Zev!" Laryll borrowed the Burning Man's immunity and after shape shifting she shoved the Antivan. The elf was still regaining his balance when the spell hit Laryll, leaving him out of the blast radius.

Desperately Zevran watched as the fireball knocked the rogue prone, but he calmed down once noting that she was okay. When Laryll was in her own form again, the assassin ran to her and helped her stand. "You scared the hell out of me", he sighed and shook his head.

"Nag later, it's going to-!" Laryll gasped when Sloth's hands were shining with lightning, but Iselda's attack silenced her.

The Warden swung her heavy sword and severed the demon's right arm. Its magic got dispelled and cries of agony echoed through the island. The enemy's anguish was even prolonged when it couldn't dodge Faith's freezing spell this time. Cold, stingy ice doubled the pain and furious Sloth cast a bolt of magic at Iselda and the mage, trying to push them away in order to get a change to gather energy.

The creature's idea seemed to work, but Dog bit its ankle, disrupting the casting once more. The mabari didn't let go even when it got a taste of Sloth's claws. While the demon was concentrated on the animal, Alistair had positioned himself behind the opponent and thrust his sword. Spitting blood Sloth gazed at the tip of the templar's weapon which had emerged out of its chest. Once Alistair pulled the blade out, the demon couldn't feel its legs anymore and collapsed.

Light flashed in Laryll's eyes and she hurried to the dying monster. She grabbed its throat and brought the enemy closer to her face. "How do you know me?" she snarled, nose wrinkled and brows almost touching each other. "Tell me and I'll end your suffering!"

Sloth sniggered and cackled, its mouth full of red. "Demons do not...suffer, my Laryll. I failed, but someone...someone is bound to find you sooner or later...just like I did..."

"What do you mean?! Tell me!"

"Laryll", Zevran's palm landed on the elf's shoulder. "It's dead."

With disgust the redhead stared at the corpse and let it fell on the ground. Antivan curses flowed from her and she kicked the nearest stone she could see. She had been left without answers and with spinning thoughts. Not even the assassin was sure what to say to her.

Faith winced when she felt a presence, but relaxed after Niall showed himself. "Be at ease, my friends", the spirit assured the others who still hadn't met the man. "He's Niall."

"The one with the Litany of Adralla?" Iselda asked while petting Dog that had been cured by Faith while Laryll had questioned Sloth.

"Yes", Niall replied and glanced around. "You actually did it. Killed the demon. I would have never had...", he swallowed the words and gave a smile. "Thank you. I was afraid that my soul would be trapped in here forever, but now I can rest in peace."

"Are you saying...?" Faith had a worried look.

"I've been imprisoned here for too long, I cannot be saved anymore. You have the power to destroy Uldred's intentions. Take the Litany off my body, it will certainly aid you."

"Are you certain that we can't do anything for you?" Alistair glimpsed at Faith, but the spirit's gaze lowered.

"You have done more than I could have ever wished for", Niall said and bowed. Suddenly he became a bit blurry and so did the world around him. "The dream is over. We are free."

Laryll had separated herself from the others, watching the horizon quietly. She flinched a little when the mage appeared in front of her and patted her arm. "Thank you Laryll. May the Maker always be with you on your travels."

Laryll didn't have time to answer back when the party got thrown out of the Fade. A windy sound rang in her ears and the light blinded her. If this was what happened every time she woke up from a dream, she was glad that no-one could remember such episode of their lives.

0-0-0-0-0

"Ugh", Laryll groaned when she opened her eyes and found herself lying on floor, next to everyone else. She moved clumsily to get on her knees and shook Zevran who lied on his back. "Wake up Zev. It's over."

The assassin met Laryll's gaze and smirked. "Not how I imagined sleeping with you after such a long time apart, but I'll take what I can get."

Laryll's cheeks turned so red that it looked like she had a fever. "Shut up", she mumbled and tried to rise, but her legs gave away and she slumped.

"Laryll what's the matter?" Zevran's serious face returned and he knelt beside the rogue, her hand in his.

"Exhaustion", Wynne's voice came behind the Antivan. The glow from her eyes was gone, but she seemed as tired as the redhead. "Sloth's nightmare was real to us, not just a quick dream we would soon forget about. All the strength we used there was really depleted, like in a fight in our realm."

"That explains why I feel like a scrambled egg", Iselda whined and leaned against her greatsword.

Alistair took steady steps towards a body next to dead Sloth and crouched. "It's Niall", he let out a sad sigh and carefully took a scroll which was in the mage's pocked. "I guess this is the Litany."

After the Warden handed the piece of paper to Wynne, the mage read the first words on it and nodded. "It is indeed. It couldn't have been easy to acquire this." She glanced at Niall. "At least he's at peace now. I'll make sure he'll receive a proper burial after the Tower is cleared."

"Before we head to the big boss, I wouldn't say no to a small break and piece of bread", grinned Iselda and gestured at Laryll. "Some of us would appreciate that even more than I."

Zevran agreed while brushing the elf's palm with his thumb. She had fallen asleep and her serene breathing made the assassin relaxed too. Wynne was right. He hadn't forgotten about the dream, not a second of it.

Not even his nightmare and Rinna's grave.

He swiped some hair off Laryll's face and smiled to himself.

* * *

**Notes: _Cómo podría olvidar, mi puesta de sol? = How could I forget, my sunset?_**

**___puto desgraciado = you fucking_ _bastard_**

**I didn't edit this chapter that much due to the lack of time, so I'm sorry if some words get repeated or there are more grammar mistakes than usual.**


	17. Chapter 17 (Christmas Special)

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Merry Christmas everyone! I'm actually not that excited this time. There's no snow, it's plus 10 degrees while my home country is literally drowning in snow and it's like -30 degrees there. I wanna go home... But still, I'm going to enjoy it, prepare some traditional Finnish Christmas dishes and spend quality time with my partner, snow or not.**

**This is a special chapter. I wished to write something cheery for a change, even though I've never written, uh, cheesy stuff like this (you know, kids playing and all that) and as csorciere suggested, I'll include these flashbacks to the story, not making one-shots of them. Even my own novel is dark cyberpunk themed with adult stuff. Forgive me, I know you waited for the final showdown with Uldred, but I do my best to post that one before the year ends.**

**I still hope you'll enjoy this one. It still has a bit of adventure in it because it is part of The Unseen Fate. Stay warm!**

_Laryll stared in wonder, having forgotten about the unusual cold reddening her cheeks. The wind had totally hidden itself, leaving the citizens of Antiva City to be able to take care of their daily routines without any problems. Merchants were pleased of the amount of customers on a special day like this. Small pouches of coins switched owners and the chinking lured even more money spenders. The volume of clamor mixed with some laughter and cries of children was even higher than normal, and the normal level was already quite annoying._

_ But it wasn't the market Laryll was interested in. Her eyes were wide when she followed white weird flakes falling from the sky with her gaze. There were only few, but it was a sight she had never witnessed before. The stuff floated so calmly and it was so pretty. When one of those odd drops of rain neared the elf, she cupped and lifted her hands and waited patiently. With a success she caught it and hurried to take a glimpse._

_ You could see the flake clearly against Laryll's black glove. It looked like a star with just more points, tiny and bigger ones. The drop itself was very small, yet so beautiful. The girl held her visible breath and brought her palm closer to her face._

_ In seconds the star vanished and Laryll blinked several times. She even removed her glove to see if her new discovery had gone through it. While she searched, she noticed how the ground was gradually turning white. Gasping from amazement, she knelt down and scooped a handful of the material. Her mouth opened more when the stuff felt cold against her right fingers which didn't have anything covering them. Out of curiosity, she threw the white above her and it quickly came back down, hitting her red long hair. A bit of it got into her eye but the elf just giggled while rubbing the chilly rain off._

_ "Someone's having too much fun all by herself", snorted a voice behind her and when she tilted her head backwards, a very familiar boy was looking at her, his arms crossed over his chest._

_ "Zev look, look!" Laryll pointed at the strange rain, filled with excitement. "What is this? It feels like ice and it's so bright!"_

_ "That's snow", Zevran replied and grinned because of his friend's reaction. "It's been long since I've seen this much on the first day of the year. Speaking of which", he leaned forward and glared at Laryll, "mother's pretty upset that you're still not at home. Had to order me to come and find you, _idiota_."_

_ Laryll swallowed and averted her gaze. More flakes landed on her hair, but she just wiped them away swiftly and continued to sulk. It's true that she had promised to play outside for a couple of hours only, but then she had met her friend Tarah at the park and they had forgotten about time. She blamed the stray cat they had chased all the way to the main gates._

_ "Can you guess what kind of punishment she threatened to give to you?" Zevran frowned, trying to be as serious and angry he could._

_ A weak shook of Laryll's head and mumbled words were the only responses he got._

_ The boy was on verge of bursting into a laugh, so he grabbed some wet snow and dropped all of it on the elf's head. He then gave the biggest smirk at confused Laryll who didn't know whether to get mad or to accept the teasing. "She said 'bring her home or she will have to gobble down twice the amount of food we always eat on this day every year'."_

_ A snigger escaped Laryll's lips, but she didn't halt herself. Her free laugh attracted attention from others around her, but most of them just smiled and let her enjoy the carefree feeling. Surprisingly one elven girl had managed to ease the stress of the people who were dealing with the last arrangements for the holiday._

_ Once Laryll finally got a hold of herself, she put her glove on and rose. "Let's go then", the elf patted snow off her long jacket and grinned, her teeth revealed._

_ "What would you ever do without me, _mi elfo tonta_?" Zevran sighed and began to lead the redhead._

0-0-0-0-0

_The first day of the year was a special occasion. The brothel Dusk was quite empty, though that ought to change during the night. Right now most of the ladies were visiting their friends or family. Only few had stayed, simply because this was their only home and the only people they knew where from the Dusk. The manager was gone too, but had given very strict instructions of how the place should be decorated and that everything had to be cleaned for the night._

_ There wasn't a single task Zevran's mother hadn't had part in. After waking up early she had fixed breakfast for the others with the staff of the kitchen and when the women had left the brothel, she had baked, cooked and washed dishes. Just when she had been convinced that the ladies would manage preparing food for everyone, she had glided to Enyla's aid who had been struggling with curtains. Laundry room hadn't been used this much in ages, especially not by one person. After she had literally helped every woman in the building, she had taken the duty of organizing the quest rooms._

_ Her broom clattered on the floor when one of her friends called her, saying that Zevran had returned with Laryll. Barefooted, she rushed downstairs and met the children at the hallway, undressing themselves. She noted Laryll's red nose and cheeks and the fact that she hadn't worn anything to cover her head and neck. Melted snow had made her hair a bit damp and there was some in her boots too._

_ Before Zevran's mother could express her concern, Laryll quickly lifted her chin, straightened her back and took a deep breath until looking directly at the woman. "I'm very sorry for causing trouble, _mamá_! It won't happen again!"_

_ Stunned and wordless, the adult failed at finding a proper answer. The girl staring at her acted like a soldier who had broken the rules. She heard the others snickering and saw how Zevran buried his face into his palm before getting close Laryll's ear._

_ "When I said 'be brave and honest', I meant a bit...different approach", he whispered._

_ "Oh", the girl blushed and her shoulders slumped. She bowed a little and repeated her words in much lower voice and with shame in them._

_ The blond elven woman smiled gently and hugged the redhead. "Apology accepted", she hummed and kissed her forehead. "Now hurry up and change your clothes. There's a fireplace which would be really glad if a certain elf warmed herself in front of it while feasting on the most delicious ham the ladies have worked so hard to cook."_

_ Searching for a consent, Laryll turned to Zevran and dared not to look too cheerful just yet. Once the boy nodded, the corners of the girl's mouth rose into a smile and she trotted upstairs, her hair swinging from left to right._

_ A quick push on his back made Zevran to take a step forward. "Don't just stand there, she's too short to reach the towels in the wardrobe", his mother said, shooing him._

_ The elf groaned for not to be allowed to go and have a taste of all the food claiming the tables in the dining room. Different scents floated in the air and Zevran could smell all of them while climbing the stairs, soft carpet tickling his feet. His mother had returned to the kitchen, hustling there and the other ladies had to almost steal some dishes from her so that she wouldn't wash all of them by herself._

_ Without thinking, Zevran entered Laryll's chambers and received a shriek as a response._

_ "_Pervertido_! Don't come in!" the girl hid behind her bed and attempted to create a new record of how fast one could put a shirt on._

_ "Tsk tsk, where have you learned words like that? Mother would not be pleased", Zevran smirked and did not do as told. Instead, he approached the wardrobe and took one white towel from there._

_ "I could have done that myself", muttered Laryll and sat on the bed, playfully kicking the colorful blankets on it._

_ "Of course", Zevran said unconvinced and tossed the towel to the girl. "Dry your hair and we can join the others. I'm starving you know."_

_ Laryll was not going to mention that he was to blame for dumping a pile of snow on her head. He would just give something witty as an answer. Rubbing with the towel caused her to look like she had fallen asleep right after a bath and had just now woken up to see the results._

_ "Ah, I almost forgot", Zevran remembered and opened a leather pouch strapped on his belt. A small wooden figurine produced in his palm and he handed it to the redhead, whose eyes were wide from admiration._

_ "Is that...?" Laryll wasn't sure what the term was she wanted to use._

_ "A halla", Zevran helped her. "I saw how you stared at this yesterday at the shop, but you didn't have the heart to ask mother buy it for you."_

_ He carefully placed the reindeer-looking handcraft on Laryll's hands. She wished to glimpse at it from every angle possible, but was very gentle when doing so. Her finger followed the lines of the halla's horns and she even sniffled it. Light Zevran didn't recall ever seeing before shone in the elf's purple irises._

_ After Laryll brought the item close to her chest, she gazed at her friend. "Thank you, Zev. But...what have I done for you to buy such a beautiful present for me?"_

_ "It's what people tend to do on the first day of the year."_

_ Laryll didn't understand the value of money, but she felt kinda bad for being the only one getting a gift. You didn't have to be an adult to realize that you were thanking while all the others were saying 'you're welcome'. _Mamá_ and the ladies had obviously worked so hard, yet no-one gave presents for them. What had she done? Been late and worried everyone._

_ She gulped and slightly tightened her grip on the figurine. "Then, what would you like Zev?"_

_ The boy laughed and tousled the elf's already messy hair. "Thanks, but I'm okay. Never change and that's enough gift for me."_

_ Laryll pushed Zevran's hand away. "Seriously, Zev! I want to give something to you too!"_

Damn, she really means it_, Zevran scratched the back of his ear and tried to think. Growing up in a brothel had taught him to be modest and mind others first over himself. He wished Laryll to have things he could only dream of, however simple those might be._

Simple..._, he grasped on the word._

_ "You know", the boy began, "there's this a particular white flower I like. I've seen them on that small hill just outside the city gates. Sadly I'm afraid they won't be able to survive in this cold, so I'd be eternally grateful if I could get a glimpse of one before the winter takes them all."_

_ Her eyes fluttering, Laryll looked like she was listening to one of her favorite stories. The signs of her paying more attention than normally were the curled fists on her lap, straight posture, gleaming orbs staring at Zevran and red lips moving little, revealing that she was chewing on her lip and attempting to hide it._

_ "A white flower. Got it", the girl jumped up and ran to the door._

_ "Wait, what... You intend to go now?" Zevran said with a shock._

_ "The sooner the better?" Laryll threw back a sentence she had learned from her friend._

_ "No, no and no", the elf rushed to block the redhead's path. "Mother would kill me if I let you leave." As Laryll's face was turning disappointed and gloomy, he made haste to find another way to halt her. "Look, this day will be celebrated tomorrow too. I promise to wait patiently, on one condition."_

_ The girl got a question mark floating over her head._

_ "You and I are going to join the others right now. I prefer my food hot."_

_ Laryll gazed at the window and then at Zevran. She shrugged and gave a girly smile. Her feet took her to a small table next to her bed and she snatched a comb lying on it. With few fast, quite violent brushes she untangled some knots. The item got tossed on the bed and the elf spread her arms as she looked at the boy. The reason why Zevran thought Laryll had been so funny was because she rarely brushed her red locks. It was him who in almost every morning made sure that no-one had any other than positive comments of her hair._

_ Zevran's palm slid across his face and he snickered. "Yes, you're fine, _mi princesa_. Come on let's go."_

_ Pleased of the feedback, Laryll stepped out her room and walked like a noble, her chin lifted and tiptoeing as if she was wearing high heels. Her play ended when she came to the stairs. Despite the countless prohibitions from the ladies, she clambered onto the wooden railing and started to skid down. Her name was called, but laughter drowned the voice. The speed decreased as she neared the main hall and after fumbling a bit, she landed on her feet still giggling loudly._

Strong, determined, beautiful, kind_, Zevran grinned as he slowly followed Laryll, although he was not going to use her method. _Just like mother_._

0-0-0-0-0

_The night wasn't as cold as people had predicted. Only a few lights were still lit, excluding guards' torches. The whole city was asleep, bellies filled and songs echoing in ears. Almost all of the snow had melted, but the citizens were more than glad for that. Antiva City was known for its warm, gentle weather which was always suitable for business. Ice and snow had a habit of making customers to rather stay home than visit white slippery streets of a market._

_ The front door of the Dusk creaked slightly when Laryll peeked outside. She had tucked her hair inside the jacket and covered her head with the hood. Gloves made of wool kept her fingers warm and the frames of her boots had soft fur. The elf knew it wasn't that cold, but if she were to sneak out like this, she had to at least ensure not to get a flu._

_ After patting her pocket to confirm there was a key inside, she shut the door and headed south first. There would be patrols in the centre and they would force her to go back home by escorting her all the way. The poorer area didn't need guards, so Laryll ran through that region in order to reach the walls. She avoided any open windows so that no-one could hear her footsteps. Once she tripped on a broom, but fled from the scene before anyone could notice._

_ She slowed down after having run for so long and took some time to catch her breath. _It has to be here somewhere_, the girl thought and examined the long wall in the distance as she walked. Zevran had once boasted with a tale about him climbing the wall and getting to the other side. While their friends had just denied his story, Laryll had asked for details. According to Zevran, there was a specific spot far from the watch towers where one could easily make his way up and end up outside the city. He had described an area with some old houses and a tavern with a dragon painted on its sign. Something like that couldn't be hard to find._

_ Laryll's yawning got interrupted when she saw a dragon. Around the inn it marked were quiet buildings. Old, but well preserved. Her lip rolled between her teeth and she pranced behind the tavern. At one point she had to crawl so that a woman who had come on the balcony for a smoke didn't see her. Wrinkling her nose due to the smell, the elf waited until the human had gone before she dared to advance._

_ A voice shouted a yell of victory in her head when she discovered the place. The stones on this part of the wall were disproportional. Big ones stuck out clearly and there were small holes, as if stones had fallen or the builder had made a mistake. Whatever the cause, it created an excellent wall to climb. Laryll was smirking happily and she removed her gloves to get a better grip while going up._

_ She put some weight on her foot when placing it in the first hole. Everything seemed to be okay, so she pushed herself up and sought for a stone to grab. Once her hand got a good grip, she hurried to the top, steadily putting her feet on narrow ledges and holding very tight. When she had almost reached the goal, she swung her leg on top of the wall and pulled herself up, groaning as most of her strength had left her body. She huffed and laid down for a minute, glad that there was space to do that._

_ While looking at the stars, she remembered how tired she was. The food _mamá_ and the ladies had cooked had been so tasty. Never had she eaten as much as she had today. Even the dessert had been so good that she had asked for another piece of the cherry pie. Zevran had insisted that she should sing with his mother, and after performing one song embarrassed, she had started to enjoy the feeling and had cast away all her worries in order to sing naturally. After a lot of applause and joy, she had retired into her room and stayed for the others to go to sleep. That part of her plan had took its time to get completed, and in the end she had been able to leave no earlier than in the midnight. What a pain._

_ Laryll slapped her cheek when her eyes were about to close. She jerked herself up and glanced the other side of the wall. Climbing down should be easier than other way around, so she didn't wish to waste any more time gathering her stamina. After rubbing her palms together, she slowly dropped her legs which instantly searched for a spot to step on. The elf sighed when her foot went into a hole and she lowered herself. There were even more knobs to grab on this side, but her limbs began to shake from strain. When only about two meters were left below her, Laryll's foot slipped and she shrieked as she fell._

Protect your head protect your head protect your head...

_ The girl's arms shielded the part of her Zevran had taught her to worry about in case she would ever fall from a tree. Thumping on the ground made her let out a sound of pain and she rolled away from the wall. She got scared that someone had heard her and promptly staggered up. Laryll's bones ached and she was sure of fresh bruises. Tears welled in her eyes as she escaped, trying her best to be a brave girl and ignore how much it hurt._

_ An image of a halla figurine on her table popped in her mind._

_ Laryll's gaze wandered until it was fixed at a hill near her location. A smile claimed her mouth again and while holding her arm, she ran. The lights of the city receded further away, but the bright moon showed the elf her way._

_ Panting and thinking of her cozy bed, Laryll forced her heavy legs to take her to the top of the hill. There were quite many large boulders and a couple of trees, but no flowers. The girl got on her knees and inspected closer. After circling every stone and bending the grass around the trunks, she was beginning to get angry and then crestfallen. Recalling Zevran's words of how the flower he wanted wouldn't manage when it was colder than usual, she couldn't stop salty drops of water dripping from her eyes. Laryll plucked a handful of the green and flung it at nothing._

_ When the glow of the moon hit her, she thought it was just mocking her misery. The elf stuck out her tongue at the stupid ball in the sky, but as she turned her head to do so, she saw a glimpse of white farther away. She trotted to it, her face showing entirely different mood now. Carefully she touched the petals of a white, pretty flower, isolated from shadows of the huge landmarks of the hill. Laryll was positive this had to be the right one and took a small shovel from her shoulder bag. _Dig deep to get the roots too_, Zevran's mother had once told her when they had been gardening. Once she got the plant, the girl gently shook it to get the most of earth and dirt off. She hid the flower in a pouch on her belt and wiped her forehead, proud of herself._

0-0-0-0-0

_Laryll had decided to regain some of her strength before crossing the wall again. With clenched teeth she had climbed up while her arm had begged for mercy. Going down had gone smoothly compared to the earlier stunt. A house below had been near enough for Laryll to be able to jump on its roof. Before the denizen would storm outside to catch the one who had made such noise, the elf used ladders and ran to an alley, towards the Dusk._

_ The girl was full of satisfaction, though remaining awake was getting more and more challenging. But she couldn't wait till the morning. Laryll swept the heels of her muddy boots on grass before entering her home. Her key silently unlocked the door and she didn't notice anyone once inside. Being so anxious, she didn't care that her clothes formed a slovenly pile on the floor and quietly approached Zevran's door, next to hers._

_ Laryll trusted that Zevran would wake up to her knocking. It hadn't been long since they got their own rooms. She used to sleep with him if nightmares plagued her dreams and that hadn't changed. Every time Zevran had woken up if Laryll had knocked on his door._

_ Just like now._

_ "Huh...Laryll? Having trouble at sleeping-", every bit of fatigue vanished from Zevran's eyes when he stared at the girl. "What's that on your face?"_

_ "I have a surprise for you", the elf grinned and passed Zevran once he moved out of the way, gesturing her to come in._

_ The boy was very quick to close the door once he got a better view at Laryll. What a disaster it would be if the others – if his mother – were to see her like this. Dirt on her forehead and cheeks made her look like she had been in a mine. Brown earth had stained her hands too and some blades of grass were like colored streaks in her hair._

_ But her left arm... At least three blue bruises were fighting for space on her skin, each having that "must hurt like hell" look on them. For the arm not to be broken was a slim consolation._

_ Zevran took Laryll's right hand and seated her on his bed. He stood in front of her, arms folded over his chest. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"_

_ The girl yawned hard, either too tired or too young to understand the severity of the situation. She loosened the pouch from her belt and handed it to Zevran, with lots of smiling. Frowning, the boy accepted the item and wondered if he should open it. When Laryll nodded and seemed to be waiting, he yanked the string keeping the pouch shut and curiously took a glimpse of what was inside._

_ "Happy new year, Zev!" Laryll giggled and laid on her stomach while watching the boy's reaction._

_ Zevran was thinking of pinching himself. It was the white flower from the hill outside the city, with roots and all. His expression was very similar to Laryll's when she had got the wooden halla. The plant was so pure, like it had been grown by the moon's light and the sweetest rain clouds could produce. All the petals were spread to reveal a yellow center. The elf didn't know was he more stunned of the beauty of the gift or the fact that Laryll had gone through such an ordeal to get it for him._

_ He turned to face the girl and smirked. She was asleep, her right arm acting as her pillow and the bruised limb resting on her side. Zevran didn't mind the sheets getting dirty from the mud, but grabbed his blanket and covered Laryll with it. He had the entire night to come up with a way to thank his friend. Admiring the flower would also prevent him from having patience to go back to bed._

_ Zevran stroked Laryll's hair, playing with the tresses and listening to her breathing. "Happy new year, _mi elfo favorita_", he whispered._

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll kept rolling in her sleep. The hard, stone floor wasn't the most ideal and comfortable place to rest, even when Zevran had put a thick carpet under the elf. Though he knew those weren't the reasons why she didn't seem to have pleasant dreams.

This whole journey was going to be very stressful. If the Circle had faced a fate like this, who knows what would be waiting for the party. The Wardens still had to go to the Dalish and the dwarfs to ask for help. Would they have to first travel through a hell like this before they could have signed contracts? Zevran had volunteered and was more than aware that Laryll could take care of herself, but watching her now not being able to sleep for even a hour or two made him wish he could take her back to Antiva and forget that she had been gone at all.

"Zevran", Iselda appeared out of nowhere, drinking from her waterskin. "We should keep going. Could you wake Laryll up?"

The assassin was ready to kick Uldred's ass and make him regret everything he had done. He was ready to leave this wretched Tower and meet the Archdemon as soon as possible to end the Blight. He was ready to have a moment alone with Laryll, to have another taste of her lips and to touch her creamy skin.

"Would it be too much to ask for a half an hour?" Zevran didn't take his eyes off the redhead.

One look at Laryll was enough for the Warden and she turned around. "An hour it is", she promised as she walked back to the others, pointing at Alistair to stay on guard while the elf was still sleeping.

It was the simplest things which made Zevran happy, although Laryll was anything but simple.

* * *

**Notes: idiota = idiot**

**mi elfo tonta = my silly elf**

**pervertido = pervert**

**mi princesa = my princess**

**Laryll's five in this flashback, Zevran's seven (their last new year together, sob). I picked the first day of the year -festival because I didn't find any evidence of something like Christmas in Dragon Age world.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**I caught a nasty flu. Lucky me, getting sick during the holidays and recovering just in time to start the next term on Monday. Most of my time was spent in bed, which kinda destroyed my chances of writing as much as I wanted.**

**Well, I couldn't meet my goal of having 20 chapters before the school started again, but maybe that's a good thing. Now I have more time to plan the story ahead (and finish one assignment I have to hand in on Tuesday.)**

**Drink something sweet and enjoy!**

Every time Iselda glanced behind her, Zevran evaded her eyes and pretended to be in the middle of examining something interesting on the walls. She walked near Laryll who had been quiet ever since waking up. The encounter with Sloth had been anything but pleasant and no-one dared to question the redhead why the demon had known her. She had been as confused as everyone else. The Warden just wished that the elf was prepared for the final confrontation ahead of them. There was no telling how crazy this Uldred would turn out to be.

The assassin silently sighed from relief again when it was Iselda's ponytail and not her piercing glare he saw. Getting another experience of the cold gauntlet was not appealing, but luckily the Warden seemed to agree with Zevran this time. It would be for the best if they wrapped things up at the Circle before having a conversation of what kind of hell they've gone through.

What he didn't know was that Iselda was actually more curious of the light radiating from Laryll, making the elf's face anything but pale despite the horrors.

With a smug smile on her lips, the Warden asked directions from Wynne, who led the party closer to the Harrowing Chamber. Few dragonlings and abominations still tested their luck, but everyone was more than ready to fight Uldred, so the creatures didn't stand a chance against the rain of blades and spells. The path was clear, and the old mage could see the final stairs in the next room.

She approached, but suddenly stopped at the doorway. Iselda blinked twice before taking a glimpse over Wynne's shoulder. There was a templar, trapped inside magical cylinder kind walls. He was on his knees, seemingly praying and muttering to himself. It was his blond, cropped hair which made Wynne recognize him easily.

"Cullen?" the mage inquired and took a closer look of the barrier. On touch it hissed like electricity and she quickly retreated her hand, rubbing her fingers together. "Blood magic. It's slowly consuming his life."

The templar ignored their presence and continued to repeat the chant.

"I suppose we have to do something and fast, yes?" Zevran pointed at another knight beside the imprisoned man. He was lying too still, telling the assassin that he couldn't be alive anymore.

Laryll crouched and attempted to make eye-contact with the templar, going as near him as she ventured. "Can you hear us?"

"Silence!" Cullen abruptly rose on his feet, startling the rogue. "I...I won't play your games! I will remain strong, y-you cannot break me!" He paced and hid his face behind his steeled palms. "Lies, these are all lies! She's not dead, only...missing..."

"I think he's lost it", Alistair commented, receiving a scowl from Iselda.

"No, my mind is still my own! Begone!" Cullen bellowed and threw his arms. He waited and stared at the Warden, shocked of what he saw. "W-why haven't you disappeared? Shouting has always worked. Have...have the illusions won? Oh Maker..."

Giving an encouraging smile to the templar, Wynne stayed close to the barrier. "We are all real, Cullen. The Grey Wardens are here to help me stop Uldred. His flame of dominion will soon be extinguished."

The man had trouble at believing anything he heard. An unsure gaze sought clarification of this being true, bouncing from the Wardens to the elves, finally freezing to look at Wynne. Iselda sighed and the old piece of paper rustled when she unrolled the contract for the Circle, showing it to the knight.

Cullen squinted at the document, but flinched only because he still wasn't certain whether these were hallucinations or not. He grabbed his head and made every effort to calm his breathing. "Okay, let's pretend that you are really there", his palms slid across his face. "I'm... I'm glad that you're alive, Wynne. I knew that if any mage could resist Uldred, it had to be you."

"You have survived because you are strong, too", the tired woman replied, relieved to see a hint of relaxation in the tense templar.

"No, I am not", Cullen lowered his chin and clenched his fist. "I wasn't able to help my brothers and sisters. These cursed mages corrupted them, forcing everyone to fight each other to the death. I was 'safe' only because Uldred trapped me in here before I could reach upstairs."

Laryll wasn't pleased to observe the amount of despise in Cullen's eyes. A mere drawing of a spell caster would get ripped in his grasp. Of course he had the right to feel enraged, but too often had his order gone too far when trying to filter evil wizards from innocent ones.

The elf glanced the huge door at the top of the stairs. The one who had caused this was not going to receive any kind of trial, that was something she could agree on. Just thinking about the number of people who had been turned into lumps of flesh and puddles of blood all over the Tower gave her shudders and made her angry. There was no reason to waste life like that. But the templar's desperation told Laryll that he blamed all the mages for this nightmare and wished them dead, guilty or not.

Making such hasty judgments was something she hated the most about humans.

"So he's there?" the rogue gestured at the closed Harrowing Chamber. "With the remaining people?"

"They are not people anymore", Cullen spat. "They're monsters and every single one of them should die!"

"Even those who were forced to participate against their own will?" Laryll shot back.

"It's the only way to ensure this will end! Too many of us have already been slain just because we thought some of the mages could listen to reason!"

_What a coward_, the redhead gnarled to herself and would have slapped the templar were it not for the magical wall separating him from the others. She was getting quite irritated of the _shem_'s raised voice and wished for someone to take the reins of madness and cut them.

Iselda stepped forward, but there wasn't going to be much comfort in her words. "It would be unfair to decide anything before seeing what's behind the door. Though... If the mages in the room attack, then we have no choice."

_Are you serious?_ Laryll leered at the Warden, open-mouthed.

"You're right", Alistair concurred, expressionlessly and turned to face Wynne, who had lost all color from her skin. "I'm sorry, but if they're with Uldred, it is most unlikely they would surrender without a fight."

Iselda managed to shift in time when Laryll suddenly straightened herself, almost hitting the Warden's elbow. The elf had wrinkled her itching nose and tossed hair out of her sight, making everyone notice a pair of disappointed eyes. With slow steps she went to the stairs and glared at the metallic door handle. For a while Zevran feared that Laryll would march to the top and enter the chamber, protests or not. Instead, she gave quite a sad snort and sat down, staring at her own hands.

"Why did you spare that blood mage downstairs, Iselda?" the elf's tone was hollow.

Only one question and it was enough to erase all the good answers from Iselda's head. Standing firm like a soldier should, but her insides were getting tangled.

"What about Jowan? Why didn't you kill him?" Laryll continued.

_Jowan?_

Cullen couldn't believe his ears. The Warden had met that bastard and left him alive? Though it wasn't too surprising. They couldn't have known, Jowan wasn't the type to reveal details of his past actions to strangers. It would take a sword across his throat to make him spill the beans.

But Cullen knew, he had been there. He had seen the consequences of Jowan's betrayal. How the blood mage had used his friend's trust to escape. While the bastard had vanished, the woman who had helped him had stayed behind to answer for the crime. The female mage Cullen respected and...adored had volunteered to join the battle of Ostagar as a punishment, having stated that if the darkspawn failed to slay her, she would return and meet a templar's blade.

_My life should be enough. Please, don't go after Jowan_, Cullen recalled the woman's words. Protecting her friend, even after getting back-stabbed...

What would he do if it were her in that room with Uldred? Would he be able to watch all the mages die then?

"Ugh", Cullen groaned and held his head, eyes closed tightly and fingers shaking.

Wynne winced and turned her attention to the templar again. "The barrier... It's getting reinforced somehow. Cullen, you must remain as still as possible. Try not to have any negative thoughts, it might make the spell stronger and thus end you more quickly."

Alistair was aware of the need to rush, so he poked the Warden's arm. "He won't make it if we don't-"

"I didn't spare them because they were mages", interrupted Iselda and kept her gaze directed at Laryll. "I think this whole mages versus templars issue is bullshit. There shouldn't be sides you'd have to choose in a matter like this. It's obvious you support people like Jowan and I don't accuse you of it. If I can see at least a hint of humanity in a person's eyes – whether it's a mage or a templar – I won't swing my sword."

"I gave those two a second chance because I think they deserved it", she walked closer to the elf and her voice was very strict and clear. "You live in the past, seeing them only as mages who are being treated badly, whereas I think of the present. You want to save these people because they are abused by templars. I'm not here to rescue them for that. I'm here to protect the innocents who happen to be wizards."

The room fell dead silent, only the humming of Cullen's prison playing on the background. The speech struck Laryll's heart and soul. It made her realize how naïve she was. She had spent most of her time in a closed community, the alienage in Denerim and before that, a brothel in Antiva. Her experiences with different people was limited and now she saw how she had let that excuse affect her. Ever since she was young, the only memories she got from templars were vile. The mage she had befriended with had been sentenced to death just because she had wished to help her family.

What about Antiva? Many human merchants had been rude to the ladies of the Dusk. Many times she had asked Zevran's mother why someone had a bruise or didn't join the others at breakfast. Did such memories permit her to despise every human merchant?

It had been just Ser Meurik. And not all had agreed with him, though his orders couldn't have been disobeyed. One of his knights had even apologized to Laryll when his captain wasn't near. The elf had spat on the man's face.

When had she forgotten how to forgive? How to understand that a cube had so many other sides to look at?

A touch of Iselda's hand on the rogue's shoulder released a lonely tear from her eye.

"Learn to see the whole picture, not just the dot at the center of the paper", the Warden crooned. "That's how humans survive and that's how you will be able to accept the world around you." She climbed the stairs and told Alistair to follow her, adding that they were going to finish this.

"Iselda...", Wynne started, looking still quite worried.

"Uldred is our enemy", the female warrior answered. "I'll do whatever it takes to bring him down and can only pray to the Maker that any mage who might be there with him will stay out of my way. I will not harm them if I don't have to."

Laryll hadn't been the only one whose ears the Warden's words had reached. Cullen was full of doubt and confusion, both of which slowly effaced his fury and spite. The woman who had left to Ostagar had showed him that mages like her existed. People who didn't desire for power or acknowledgment. The templar imagined the sorrowful gaze which would stare at him if that girl could read his thoughts now.

He muttered her name and dropped on his knees, his mouth searching for something to say. "Just...make sure that Uldred is the one who will bleed the most." Cullen bit his lip and kept his head lowered.

The old healer nodded, trusting her friends that there would not be unnecessary bloodshed. The Wardens needed the Circle for the war, but Wynne sensed that Iselda wasn't concerned about such thing at the moment. Under this stamp of a leader was a woman who clearly had lost more than one should and used that as a source of power required to make decisions and encourage her companions. She glanced at Laryll who seemed stunned, but not depressed. Not even Zevran had approached the redhead.

Wynne knew what was at stake. The order had to be restored and that could be accomplished only by slaying Uldred. The other rebels would be given an option of surrender and she greatly wished they would take it. Like Iselda had said, the conflict between the templars and the mages shouldn't evolve into a war and that could be avoided only if people began to see the person behind the uniform.

And according to rumors, one templar and one mage had succeeded at that.

When the Antivan did go to Laryll and offered to help her up, the elf pushed his hand away and got on her feet. "I will, Iselda", her gleaming eyes were wide, the Warden's picture reflected in them. "You'll see."

"Good", Iselda grinned and waved her stubborn friend to hurry up, her fingers curled around the door handle. "You coming, Wynne?"

"Of course", the mage replied and was about to grab her staff before she halted, not clearing another step of the stairs.

While the others were uncertain of the delay, Wynne turned around to face the trapped templar once more. "Cullen."

"Yes?" the knight's gaze found the mage.

"Rebeka is alive. She didn't want me to tell you, so that you wouldn't have to lie to Greagoir in order to go search for her. I can't tell you much, but I'll share my information with you after Uldred has been dealt with."

Her white, short tied hair swayed when Wynne joined the rest of the party, being sorry for the wait. Once they were ready, Iselda opened the door and led everyone to a narrow corridor which would take them to the Harrowing Chamber. The wooden entry let out quite a loud noise when shut, but it didn't matter. Uldred had to be aware of them already, and was surely expecting his 'visitors'.

Left alone was a blessing to Cullen, because now he could cry without feeling shame. The tears touched the corners of his mouth when he managed to pull a faint smile.

0-0-0-0-0

The sounds coming from the room at the end of the hallway were something none of the group had heard before. Piercing, disgusting, awful. Describing what they saw was even more difficult. Laryll was close to stop her legs from taking her to the Chamber when she caught a glimpse of a ritual one mage was performing. On floor which had symbols and runes painted on it lay a young human who couldn't have been more than twenty. The man looked like he was being strangled and he gasped for air. Death would have been more merciful compared to what happened to him. His fingers extended and the flesh on his skin bubbled, creating the same scars and texture the elf had seen on the abominations. Burned skin covered half of the human's face and once the gruesome transformation was over, he resembled the monster Laryll remembered.

There were several humans with the abominations and a bald man the rogue believed to be Uldred. They could still be saved and that brought the wind which moved Laryll's limbs. She had no idea what Iselda was thinking when noticing the Warden's petrified expression. Alistair was definitely angry and Wynne's gaze was at one of the hostages who was old and had a long gray beard and hair.

Then Laryll turned her head and glanced at Zevran. It seemed like he and Dog were the only ones who could keep their cool at all times. The assassin didn't approve what he witnessed, but he wouldn't let it affect his performance. Or maybe he hid his fear well.

_Heh, Zev being afraid_, the elf snorted. Never had she seen a scene like that and was sure that she never would.

"You all right, my dear?" the Antivan was wondering why he was being stared at.

Laryll smiled and unsheathed her daggers. Echoes of rattling armor and thumping boots couldn't delete the cries and shrieks of the mages, but just having Zevran beside her gave the redhead strength. She had promised to herself not to break down again like she had because of Vaughan. The dead bann didn't have the first place in her mind, not since she got kissed by the assassin.

Blinking his eyes, Zevran walked next to Laryll, keeping his normal smirk. The battle didn't scare him. He knew they were capable enough and there was a healer with them too.

It was himself he was afraid of. His growing feelings and how that was gradually changing him. How it made him fight for something else than survival.

Uldred was a patient man it seemed. He waited till the Wardens and the rest had stopped at the center of the room, only few meters away from him. Not Dog's bared teeth nor revealed blades made him attack. The abominations were hungry for blood, but they also stayed still.

"Ah, look who we have here at last", Uldred spread his arms. "I was so hoping you would get past my servants. If you killed them, well, that just proves they were useless to begin with."

Every word coming from this mage's mouth was like poison. Laryll didn't want to breathe the same oxygen as he did and asked for forgiveness from her mother's blades because she would have to taint them with the human's blood.

When the gray-haired prisoner coughed some crimson, Wynne glared at Uldred, her fingertips surrounded by mana. "What have you done to Irving? What have you done to the Circle?!"

"Oh don't be like that, Wynne", Uldred sneered. "I have acquired true power and I'm simply offering the same gift to these people."

"By turning them into abominations!" Alistair growled. He was still awaiting the permission to charge from Iselda, but his fellow Warden remained stiff, making him lift his brow in wonder.

"Oh, Grey Wardens? Sorry, but I have no use for your kind. You lack the potential needed to receive this power." Uldred spun around and grinned at Irving. "You and Wynne on the other hand, you could become my lieutenants. Pity that one pupil of yours didn't make it from Ostagar. What was her name, Amill, Amell... Huh, can't recall her first name, oh well-"

"Uoooooh!" howled Iselda as she grabbed her sword with both hands and threw it as hard as she was able. Like an eagle it flew forward and the blade sunk into the chest of one of the monsters, killing it before anyone knew what was going on.

"Whoa...", Zevran breathed, glad that his reflexes had been working and helped him to pull Laryll out of the way. Though the Warden wouldn't have attempted such a thing if her friends were hurt by doing so, or that's what he thought. It gave him a good reason to embrace Laryll nonetheless.

The look on Uldred's face was priceless. The shock and amazement were mixed together, causing him to have trouble at whether he should frown or laugh. The mages and the First Enchanter were gaping at Iselda, unsure how to react.

Iselda panted and pointed at the villain. "I...am hungry, sleepy, sweaty and about to explode from this evil atmosphere. I miss the sun, the rain and the campfire. This scheme of yours interests me as much as a bone my mabari has gnawed. So hurry up and die so that I can have my troops and go fight the Blight, which is the real threat!"

Uldred's response was an exact opposite of the others. He burst into a loud laugh, holding his stomach and wiping tears. The soulless creatures did nothing but grunt.

"Ahh, it's been ages since I've enjoyed this much", the mage sighed, and all of a sudden a blinding light started to swirl around him. "My pride compels me to rip your tongue out and oh how happily shall I do that."

Wynne began to cast her protective spells when Uldred was transforming. "You are not him anymore, are you?"

"True, and not true", Uldred's voice had deepened and darkened and it had the same kind of resonance as Connor had. "He sought me out and begged me for power. I granted him his desire and in return he lent me his body."

The floor trembled and the innocent mages panicked, glancing at each other and calling for help. Irving tried his best to calm them down while Uldred continued to grow in size and change his shape. Laryll had loosened herself from Zevran's arms and readied her daggers by putting some of the Crow poison on them, ignoring her twitching finger.

"Don't just stand there!" Iselda roared at Alistair and dashed to get her sword.

The male Warden got a grip of himself and ran forward. Being positive that his attack would hit the defenseless mage, he struck with force. But the glow around Uldred was like a shield, blocking the hit easily. The others noticed it and Zevran abandoned his plan of casting a dagger into the enemy's throat. Quickly Wynne commanded her companions to let the transformation finish so that the light would vanish while using the time to enhance their weapons.

Iselda reached her blade and swiftly pulled it out of the corpse. The shadow of Uldred's new form cloaked her, though it wasn't the mage she saw anymore. It was a huge demon, equipped with sharp claws and teeth like a shark's. The monster reeked of magic and strength and Iselda knew this encounter was going to be tough.

Shaking any trace of fear from her head, the Warden shouted orders. The elves would get behind Uldred while she and Alistair kept his focus away from them. Dog was welcome to bite his limbs off if it could and Wynne was to divide her mana between healing and offensive spells. Brute force was the key of taking down such a strong demon, but the strategy needed another element, and that was speed.

_Hurry up and die so that my friends won't be hurt_, Iselda glared.

"Come on", Zevran rushed Laryll and followed the Warden's instructions. He told the rogue to beware Uldred's talons and aim for the weak points like the heels and knees in order to slow the creature down.

After Alistair had sliced the demon's shoulder, it tried to shift which created an opportunity for Laryll. She ducked and dug her dagger into Uldred's flesh, but missed a vulnerable spot. Dodging the monster's attacks wasn't effortless. He wasn't nimble due to the size, but his massive arms claimed a lot of space when he swept them.

Two abominations targeted Iselda, who answered their challenge by giving them a taste of a whirlwind. She spun and her sword cut one enemy in half and the other was left critically wounded. The mabari handled that by shredding its victim's deformed face. The Warden could accompany Alistair and was relieved for not seeing any major injuries on him.

"Your struggle is pointless!" Uldred snarled and stretched his arm. He cast a spell which circled one of the hostages in light, causing the mage to yell in horror.

"The Litany, Iselda!" Wynne's voice shouted and she attempted to disrupt the demon's spell with her own.

Taking a step back, Iselda took a scroll out of her pocket and read it aloud. The words made no sense to her, but right now she only wished that it would stop Uldred. After finishing the last sentence, there was a booming noise and the demon's controlling magic got canceled instantly. Bits of dust fell on the targeted mage, but other than that he was fine.

"Curse you, Warden!" Uldred's eyes almost burned from rage. "The Litany won't aid you if you're dead!"

He lifted his hand and five claws were heading at Iselda. The warrior bent her legs and rolled out of the way. Alistair's cry made her realize that she wasn't out of range when Uldred's other hand hit her. Just in time the Warden had managed to raise her sword, but wasn't able to block all the claws. Two of them pierced the region on her side that wasn't covered with heavy armor. Blood oozed from the corner of her mouth, but she kept her lips pressed together, not showing any sign of pain to her enemy.

Uldred winced and was forced to let go of Iselda because of Laryll's dagger on his back. The poison did its job and stunned him, leaving him open. With a roar Alistair made a deep cut on the demon's chest and swung again. The blade drilled between the monster's ribs, but he had regained his ability to move, thus preventing the Warden from hitting the heart.

When Iselda saw Wynne coming to her, she gestured her to halt. "No, use your magic to kill Uldred!" After fumbling a bit, she lifted a red potion from her pouch, removed the cap with her teeth and drank the liquid with three gulps. "I'm fine for now, let's end this!"

The wounds Iselda had began to close a little, but the old mage knew she required proper healing later. Icy air collected around her palms and Wynne launched a freezing spell at the demon. Fatigue was tormenting her, but this was her home and she would fight even with her fists to save it.

After having tasted enough abomination blood, Dog attacked Uldred with the Wardens whose swords were stained with red, blood dripping on the stone floor and messing the markings of Uldred's ritual. The demon's every attempt to control his hostages was in vain. The Litany always dispelled his magic. Wynne kept healing everyone's injuries, allowing everyone to have their full concentration on the battle.

Laryll huffed and wasn't sure how long she could evade. There were a couple of small cuts on her arms, which only stung when she thought about them. She noted how Zevran was occasionally holding his shoulder, which was probably because of a punch he had took earlier. Luckily, Uldred himself seemed to be about to fall and his attacks were becoming lazy and clumsy.

_We will win this_, the elf narrowed her eyes and clenched her dagger until her knuckles turned white. She slipped through Uldred's defense and struck her blade like a nail, hitting the demon's thigh.

A familiar voice yelled her to watch out.

The warning reached the rogue in time and she jumped back when the creature tried to grab her. She had to leave her weapon and rely now on one dagger, feeling quite naked.

Uldred directed his anger at the elf, not caring about giving the Wardens a chance to damage him. The demon turned around and charged at Laryll, growling to shake off the pain Iselda's sword caused on his waving arm. Alistair had to dodge with his shield in order not to get hit and could only watch as the enemy's talons neared the redhead.

"Come, you son of a-!" Laryll provoked, but lost her voice and stared in terror.

Without giving a second thought, Zevran had appeared in front of the rogue. The Antivan's daggers pointed up, and when Uldred's hand got closer, the blades sliced the monster's arm from wrist to elbow. His attack wasn't stopped though, and Zevran jerked his head as the claws lashed cuts above his brow.

Grief, wrath and fear gathered inside Laryll and she made the assassin to look at her. Blood streamed from three wounds on his forehead, disabling him from opening his left eye and the dizziness had fallen him on one knee. And yet the blond elf smirked, like it was nothing.

Coughing and grunting, Uldred searched for balance and dangled his useless limb. "No, I will not be defeated... I... I'm not going alone... I'll take your boyfriend with me!"

Laryll snatched Zevran's dagger and glared at the enemy, refusing to listen to the Antivan's objections. If he would guard her with his life, then she would do the same. She would not move, not while her soul was in this world.

Dog came out of nowhere and bit the demon's ankle, tearing a lump of flesh. Uldred collapsed and Iselda acted. Now that the enemy was prone, she hopped on top of him and ran towards the head. Her sword glinted before it was brought down, penetrating the creature's heart. He howled and bellowed, but couldn't fight back. The Warden didn't loosen her grip before she was certain that the demon was dead. Life was being drained from Uldred and his last mutters were too unclear. His curled fingers opened and his chest didn't raise anymore.

The Warden pulled her weapon out and jumped down, making a wry face due to the ache on her side. Alistair supported her, but knew that Iselda would want the others to get healed first. He saw Wynne and nodded at the elves. The mage looked at Irving and the freed prisoners, but the First Enchanter smiled, telling her to take care of the wounded first. She answered to the request while Alistair took his injury kit and helped Iselda to dress her smaller wounds.

"It's not that serious, _mi rub__í_", Zevran comforted Laryll, who was silent. He had received a piece of cloth from her, but it was already wet from blood and didn't exactly stop the bleeding.

Wynne knelt beside the assassin and warm energy swirled around her hands. "Stay still and this won't take long."

"What a shame, no?" chuckled the Antivan. "No worries if you run out of mana, I think your company is enough to cure me."

"And I think that our younger friend would appreciate your company more than I", Wynne snorted as her magic effectively treated Zevran's cuts. "I have to heal Iselda too, so I'll take care of the scars later, once I've rested."

"No need if you prefer me this way."

The mage groaned and stood up, not giving another glance at the elf while going to the Wardens.

Sighing, Zevran turned to Laryll. "Are you mad at me?" he asked.

"Yes!" the rogue suddenly yelped. "I could have evaded! Uldred was too slow, he wouldn't have been able to hit me! Yet you...why...". Her voice broke, but she didn't allow herself to weep.

_That's why she was mad?_ The assassin was so certain that the reason was something more obvious. The elf in his eyes was not a simple one indeed.

"My body just moved on its own", he said while wiping his face with a new, clean cloth.

"You haven't changed", Laryll mumbled and kept her head lowered. "Always hurt because of me, no matter the situation...".

Zevran was aware that the elf was exaggerating, but it made him think. Protecting Laryll had always been self-explanatory to him. When Uldred had tried to attack her, the Antivan hadn't thought of what might happen to him. For years his only wish had been that even if he was to die, something as beautiful as Laryll would continue to live.

But the rogue was wrong. He had changed, more than ever. Now he had another reason to exist and would risk his life for it.

With his reddened hand, Zevran caught Laryll's face and brushed her cheek. "You still don't get it, do you?"

The girl was puzzled and stopped chewing her lip, feeling how her skin warmed.

"I don't want to lose you, _el amor de mi vida_", the assassin whispered and gently conquered Laryll's mouth.

* * *

**Notes: _el amor de mi vida = the love of my life_**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**I'm really happy to have received more followers. Big hugs for those who have been here from the beginning and the newcomers and everyone.**

**I'm not sure if I've talked about the radio show we're supposed to do for one of our courses, but things have changed so that I'll be doing it alone, which means more work for me. The first live broadcast should be on the next week, so I have my hands full. Fingers crossed I'll be able to start the next chapter during the weekend, it's been so hectic for our heroes so they deserve a moment that doesn't involve saving the world. In the next chapter, sadly.**

**Enjoy!**

Cullen had rushed in the Harrowing Chamber as soon as the spell trapping him had vanished. There was blood everywhere, but his wishes had been heard: most of it was Uldred's. Though he bore no particularly high love towards mages (except for one), seeing them and the First Enchanter in one piece was a relief. It was understandable that the acolytes had startled when having noticed the templar's unsheathed sword, but with Wynne assuring that the danger was over, he had hidden his blade. He let the spirit mage heal the Wardens before suggesting that they should go downstairs and inform Greagoir.

With Cullen leading the group, they made their way to the lower levels, heading to the first double doors which had been shut behind Iselda and her companions. Irving and his students were completely sucked out of mana and stamina, so the templar ensured he wasn't walking too fast. He did try to hurry after having heard that the Knight-Commander had requested for the Rite of Annulment. Such brutal methods weren't needed anymore.

_She_ may not have ever considered the Tower as her home, but Cullen didn't want to see it getting burned to the ground nevertheless.

"Are you okay?" Wynne suddenly appeared beside him while descending stairs, causing him to gasp in surprise.

Cullen quickly recovered, but the concerned look on his face wasn't wiped away. "Yeah, I...I think so. I did as you told, stayed still and as calm as possible. I felt how Uldred's magic couldn't drain my strength much after that-"

He fell silent when meeting Wynne's gaze. It resembled the green eyes which would glare at him if he was evading an unpleasant topic. There was no escaping from those and he got quite a few memories of him trying to do so. Right now, the templar would sacrifice anything to see that green color again.

"What happened?" Cullen threw his hesitations into a corner and took the first step.

Wynne thought for a moment what she should say. After all, her friend had made her to promise not to tell Cullen. The battle had gone so horribly wrong, and what it had done to her was...

"When we arrived at Ostagar, I spent most of the time before the battle healing unfortunate scouts and preparing the mages' equipment", she began, not really minding that the others might hear the conversation. "Rebeka was getting ready by learning some spells from the seniors and because of the fatigue from that, she rested a lot, though it was I who ordered her not to exhaust herself."

When _she_...Rebeka had passed her Harrowing, Cullen had secretly sighed from relief, careful not to show such emotion to the templars who also had been present at that time. Normally those who had undergone this test just recently were stationed to small duties such as assisting the older mages and the new spells taught to them were only slightly more complex than the basic ones they already knew.

However, that was not the case with the Amell girl. She was more or less forced to join a huge fight against the darkspawn, even when according to her the demon she had faced in the Fade had been extremely powerful. The magic she had to start learning after the Harrowing was the type which consumed a lot of mana. Cullen recalled a night when he had went to the top floor due to some noises he had heard, only to discover Rebeka casting a strong spell. Before he had been able to stop her, the magic died incomplete and she had fainted. When the templar had scolded her for attempting something so foolish, she had stated that if she didn't cross the line of her current strength, even a genlock would easily strike her down.

An answer which had made Cullen more reluctant of letting her go.

"The day before the battle, when I first met the Wardens, Rebeka was acting strange", Wynne glanced briefly at Iselda. "There was...concern and fear in her eyes."

"I can't imagine everyone remaining cheerful in such situation", Cullen was getting quite anxious.

"Yes, but you and I both know her better than that to figure out she wasn't just afraid", the mage smiled when the templar tried to hide his blush. "I noticed how Rebeka did her best to encourage those who were about to lose their hope. She didn't practice her spells on that day. I followed her for a while when she left the camp and saw her collecting bunch of elfroots near the woods. There was enough to make tens of healing poultices, and that was exactly what she did with the herbs once she returned to her tent."

Dead knights on the library's floor made Wynne breathe calmly before continuing. "Hours before the King would lead his troops against the enemy, Rebeka took the supplies she had produced to the soldiers' camp. The most effective potions she instructed to be given to the King and Duncan."

Alistair's attention was quickly caught when he overheard that. "Why?" he asked.

Laryll was also intrigued and moved a bit closer. There were still many questions without answers in her head about lots of things, but because of the hurry since departing from Redcliffe Village she hadn't had a chance to just sit and talk. Plus closing oneself from the people around you tends to make speaking difficult.

"She clearly wished to ensure they would return from the battle", Wynne said.

Cullen shivered. "Could...could it be possible that Rebeka knew what was going to happen?" Saying her name aloud felt both good and weird. It's not like templars didn't address mages by their names, but Cullen had thought he and the Amell girl would seem too friendly by doing so every time they greeted each other.

The healer sighed, looking uncomfortable of going on. "The fight was nearly over and those who were still alive began to retreat with the injured. Word of the King's death was spreading like a plague, which was the last blow to the army's morale. Only few mages were left standing, doing whatever they could to ease the soldiers' pain and keep the darkspawn away."

Iselda was aware how Alistair was gritting his teeth. They had been ordered to light the beacon at the Tower of Ishal, which meant they weren't going to join the battle. To hear about how devastating the actual fight had been made the Wardens sad and angry at themselves. They wouldn't feel as bad as they did now if Loghain had sent his men as planned, even if it had resulted in the same outcome. If Iselda had anything in common with Alistair, it was hatred towards traitors like Howe and Loghain.

"I found Rebeka, thank the Maker", Wynne didn't seem as glad as one should be when a friend is alive. "Wounded, but breathing. But when I was about to start healing her, she grabbed my arm and begged me to go to the King and the Warden-Commander. They...had perished by then already. I won't ever forget the gaze she gave me when I broke the news."

"It sounds like she knew about their upcoming fate, no matter how unbelievable it is", Alistair whispered. "Didn't she warn Cailan?"

"If you had been in his shoes, would you have stopped the march because of a vision?"

_We did take Leliana with us because 'the Maker told her to come'_, Iselda remembered with a forced grin on her lips. But Wynne was right. Magic isn't trusted and a dream of a disaster is a pretty good example of a paranormal thing. A king can have his instincts, but he couldn't base his actions on them as freely as Iselda, who didn't hold any rank or title. What Rebeka had experienced, if she truly had seen the future, reminded her of the Joining ritual. Those who recruit new Wardens would happily tell about the risk of the ceremony, but they can't. The high death rate of the Joining wouldn't look nice in 'How to become a Grey Warden' book and would scare everyone away from the order.

The group halted abruptly when they reached the blue barrier Wynne had made. Voices from the other side of it came closer and faces filled with joy watched at them. The templar they had rescued from a demon's domination was there too, meaning that he hadn't been successful at getting Greagoir to open the doors. Wynne promised to explain the rest later and took her staff. The mages moved out of the way for her to dispel the wall.

A woman approached them when the party entered the room. "Is it... Is it over?" she sobbed.

"Yes, child", Wynne smiled, more relaxed than she had been since accompanying the Wardens. "Uldred is not going to harm us anymore."

Some mages shed tears of mixed feelings, but the cheering of the kids made them smile and even laugh. Irving asked Cullen to come with him to the Knight-Commander, wishing to get the front door open and let fresh air to erase the musty smell of death. The templar agreed and excused himself, giving Wynne a leer. Whether she liked it or not, the mage would have to finish what she had started. Cullen knew the ending of her tale wouldn't gratify him.

While the others celebrated, Iselda couldn't think of anything else than a warm bath and change of clothes. She made Alistair swear that the nearest inn was going to be their next destination after stopping at Redcliffe, Blight or not.

"We really did it", Laryll's snort was delighted and she turned to look at Zevran. "The Tower is safe now, isn't it?"

She didn't expect to get silence as a response. The assassin wasn't even meeting her eyes.

"Zev?" she tilted her head, surprised to see the elf wince a little.

"Oh, sorry", Zevran's smirk was uneasy. "I was just in my thoughts. Guess its because of staying in such isolated place for this long, no?"

Laryll blinked and was confused. "Er, yes. Perhaps." _Why it feels so awkward?_ "We'll be out soon. I think."

The Antivan brushed the rogue's hair for a second and went after the Wardens who were following the First Enchanter. Laryll touched the back of her head and her heart thumped. The way Zevran had stroked her was the same as when they were children. It was affectionate, but not with passion like their kisses had been. Since leaving the top floor he hadn't said much. He hadn't been interested in Rebeka's story either. Had she unwittingly rejected him, hurt him?

A chill caused Laryll to shudder. Was this how Zevran had felt when she had tried to hide the mess tangling her mind? This powerless? It was too strange to Laryll. She had never witnessed her elven friend being so wordless. Maybe she hadn't been able to tell if Zevran lied or kept secrets as a kid, but now it was as clear as the ocean water.

She closed her eyes tightly. She believed there was an answer somewhere in her memory. The fault had to be plain.

"You were right, Wynne", one of the mages said. "You told us to have faith, and we did. We survived because we didn't lose it."

_Faith?_

_The Fade..._

Laryll raised her chin and stared at the Antivan's back, who was waiting for the door to open, arms folded over his chest. Her fingers squeezed the leather covering her chest, like she was clawing through it in order to reach the ring in her sealed pocket.

There is still so much about the thirteen years of their lives they hadn't spoken about.

0-0-0-0-0

"I see you have all returned", was what Greagoir had said when he met the group, after telling Cullen to go to the front yard outside and prepare a boat for their guests who likely were going to leave soon, or so he hoped.

"I'm pleased that you approve", Iselda snorted. "Is it safe to assume that the situation has been solved with this? With Uldred slain and all." Her statement was confirmed by Irving, who assured there were no abominations in the Tower.

"Yes, I thank you for restoring the order." Greagoir gazed at the mages. "You are free to heal those who were hold as prisoners or otherwise injured. My men will provide you lyrium potions if needed."

With that, the women helped the weakened males to lie down and began to channel their remaining mana while the children wished to aid by bringing bandages and water to them. Laryll was wrinkling her nose when she noticed how the templars were watching the mages' every movement with care.

Irving glanced at Iselda. "We didn't have an opportunity to discuss properly, so I'm still wondering why have Grey Wardens come to the Circle."

"We need the mages to fight against the Blight", Alistair clarified. "Moreover, there is a situation at the Redcliffe Castle. The Arl's son, Connor, he's...possessed."

"Ah, the Warden treaties", the First Enchanter paced. "Surely you have kept your eyes open while being here? Uldred may be dead, but because of him, our numbers were greatly reduced. And I doubt we would be allowed to go to Redcliffe so soon after this tragedy." He could imagine how the templars were nodding behind him.

Iselda lifted her hand when she noticed how Laryll was going to express her opposition and frowned at Irving. "A child is controlled to do horrible things and he can't do anything about it. Yet you're willing to let him suffer? If the mages don't help him, we will have to kill the son of the Arl, which will nullify all the chances of getting his support for the war. The Circle will recover, but a life cannot be brought back."

The man who scoffed was the Knight-Commander. "This incident proves that the mages have to be locked up. You are wrong if you think they are permitted to go with you."

"Only the First Enchanter should be sufficient for the ritual that could save the boy", Wynne pointed out, facing Geargoir's displeased eyes.

"Me and Alistair could be the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden at the moment", Iselda continued. "Are we running away because it's just two of us against thousands of darkspawn?"

Irving's mouth moved to seek for a reply and he looked like someone had hit him in the head with a log. "No, I... No, you are correct."

Shaking his head, Greagoir looked directly at the female Warden. "I understand your need for help, but I don't think it's a good idea to let our remaining mages attend your battle."

"I'm not asking your opinion, Knight-Commander", the glare Iselda shot at the templar was quite piercing. "They are obliged to aid us. If releasing them from your watch worries you, you should take the templars and join the battle with us."

Alistair's brow lifted. Of course having both mages and templars would increase the chances of victory, but when was the last time these two orders had fought side-by-side? 'Never' would be his guess.

As expected, Greagoir waved his hand. "We must stay at the Tower, now more than ever. Some may still wish to rebel, and the place is not far from being ruined. Rebuilding must start as soon as possible."

Laryll clenched her fist and narrowed her eyes. The _shem_ had nerve to seek for more mages to blame, even after so many had died and those left alive were forever scarred. Had there not been enough blood spilled already? She didn't know much about this Blight, but it didn't take a genius to realize its threat was far more important issue than redecorating a tower.

Soft fingers landed on her hand and she looked at Zevran who calmed her with a smile. The urge to hug him increased rapidly. She should ignore all the people in the same room and seek the familiar warmth. But she couldn't. It wouldn't be an embrace she wished for.

_You don't have to do that, Zev_, a voice in Laryll's head said sadly. _You don't have to do that when you yourself need someone to listen to you._

With a fragile whisper, she told the assassin that she was okay and gently removed his hand. His reaction wasn't puzzled.

Getting fed up with arguing with the templar, Iselda turned her attention to Irving. "Can I count on you? Will you help us?"

Obeying the Knight-Commander had always been a routine for mages. The power of the First Enchanter was almost nonexistent. Having that title meant to be able to attend the templars' meetings and take a glimpse of essential documents, amongst other minor things. But his word didn't usually have effect on major decisions or changes. For years, doing as the templars said had been the best method of avoiding unnecessary conflicts and arguments.

But this was the Blight. An Archdemon was commanding an army of creatures which will curtain the world in darkness if people won't defy their superiors at least once.

Irving's tired gaze went from Greagoir to the Warden. "The mages will fight with the Wardens", he announced. "When the time comes, we will answer to your call. As for the Arl's son, if the Knight-Commander doesn't object, I will come with you and see if there's anything I can do."

Before Iselda was going to smirk, she exchanged a glance with Greagoir. The templar seemed to have tens of protests ready to roll out of his tongue, but he kept his mouth sealed. Other templars murmured some curses and shocked words, patiently waiting for their leader's orders.

The Knight-Commander spun around and didn't look back. "On the field, you are responsible", his grumping could barely be heard before he joined the other knights to give them their tasks. Two templars were to go with the First Enchanter and carry as much lyrium as he required.

Iselda planned to tell him that the mages were capable of looking after themselves and didn't need a babysitter with them, but she just clicked her tongue and chose not to speak with the man any longer. "Everything turned out quite well, don't you think?" she winked at her fellow Warden.

Alistair scratched his short hair and snickered. "Pissing off the Knight-Commander and nearly making the whole organization our enemies? Yes, quite well indeed."

"Iselda", Wynne interrupted, "if it won't cause any problems, I offer to accompany you on your quest."

Both Irving and the warrior gave an interrogative stare at Greagoir, who shrugged and didn't seem to care anymore. He supposed the Warden had heard him before and that Wynne knew she would be hunted if she became an apostate.

"Are you sure?" the Warden asked.

"I'll return once we've defeated the Blight, for this is my home. Right now, the Wardens require my help more than the people here."

"I agree", the First Enchanter said. "Wynne is one of our best healers and that is a talent you will definitely need."

Laryll had fought alongside with the spirit inside the mage, Faith. Everyone knew about her, they had met her during the encounter with Sloth. But the rogue had waded through the islands in the demon's domain with Faith and Dog and got a very good glimpse of her abilities. Having her magic would be highly beneficial, plus she had learned to trust Wynne.

"Then I welcome you", Iselda bowed and shifted, ready to go outside. "Greagoir?"

"What is it now?" the templar groaned.

"We must work together. You can resume this game of prisoners and guards after the war is over. Until then, I expect you to know who is the real enemy."

Gesturing the Warden to hurry up and leave, the Knight-Commander concurred in a muttering voice and tramped into the Tower with some of his men.

0-0-0-0-0

The sunlight and the scent of water made Iselda stretch her arms and then she swung them in a circle. Her nose was filled with air and she untied her ponytail, letting her blood-stained strands flit free. The others also breathed deeply and realized how their bodies ached. Although Laryll didn't want to admit it, the growling wasn't coming from Dog, but from her stomach.

"Pretty, no?" Zevran glanced at the scenery.

The redhead saw the coast from where they had come to the Tower, but if she looked in any else direction, all she could see was blue water. Waves hit the few rocks which stood in their way and the noise melted with the singing of birds. Even the shrieking of some seagulls was music compared to the roars and gurgling sounds at the Circle.

Cullen was waiting for the group at the dock. While seeing Wynne with the Wardens was hardly surprising, spotting Irving on the other hand was quite the opposite. Alistair gave a quick version, amazing Cullen how they had made Greagoir to comply.

Laryll watched the humans who were busy loading the boat in the distance and squatted to rub Dog behind its ear. "You've been very silent", she said.

"I'm yet to discover a talking mabari", Zevran sneered beside the elf.

"You know who I meant." Because she wasn't answered, Laryll sighed and rose up.

"_Mi rub__í_, it wasn't my intention to-"

The assassin's lips got touched by Laryll's. It was the first time she had initiated a kiss and it wasn't just a quick peck. Her mouth moved and claimed more space and the rogue's tongue met the Antivan's. She wasn't going to accept any form of hesitation, but wasn't subjecting either. The possibility of getting caught in such embarrassing act didn't bother Laryll, but after her lips were gleaming from moisture, she withdrew slowly.

"I", she panted quietly, "will tell about Vaughan, Nelaros or anyone if you will share your thoughts with me. If you don't, then...this was the last one." Her words hurt and she was being unfair, but she couldn't figure out another way. Closing her eyes, Laryll headed towards the Wardens, Dog curiously trailing behind her.

In due time, Zevran took heavy steps to follow the elf. He was being drowned by his past, which affected his own decisions and desires. The reasons for wanting to protect Laryll and to almost regret revealing part of his feelings to her were too influenced by the events of his life. How to shape that confusion in words was something Zevran had no idea of.

But the price for wishing to stay his mouth zipped was too high. His thumb wiped his swollen lower lip and immediately he knew what to do. There wouldn't be anything worth living for if Laryll left his side.

0-0-0-0-0

Cullen steered the boat across Lake Calenhad. The First Enchanter and his 'guardians' weren't aboard because there wasn't enough room, so they were waiting for their turn at the Tower. The templar gazed at the building, comprehending the fact of how seldom he saw it from the outside.

"After Ostagar, where did Rebeka go?" Iselda's question made Cullen turn his head at Wynne. "If she knew what was going to happen to the King and Duncan, maybe she knows more. About the Blight."

The mage fixed her position and looked in the horizon. "It took several days for her injury to heal and we couldn't start the journey back to the Circle before she got better." She looked at Cullen. "Obviously, Rebeka never returned with me."

"Why?" the templar blurted, but noticed how stupid that was, considering it would have been the executioner's sword waiting for the Amell. "I-I mean, where else would she go?"

"She wouldn't tell me of her plans, only that it was crucial for her to go to various places. I suppose there was more to her vision than the battle we lost and she wishes to alter whatever future she may have seen."

Wynne described how they had faked Rebeka's death by casting an illusion spell on a dead human. It had took a lot of persuasion from her to prevent the templars from using their power to dispel magic in order to verify the body was indeed Rebeka. After giving a lecture of honoring the dead, the corpse had been burned and she was reported to have been killed in action.

It didn't cheer Cullen up that Rebeka had gone alone. If wrong people found out about her, she would be in danger. Templars were very ruthless when it came to pursuing a convicted mage.

Iselda leaned forward, her arms resting on her lap. "It would her no good if we sought her out. I'm sure that our paths will cross if her information is involved with our quest."

Reluctantly, Cullen nodded. "She wouldn't hide if she didn't feel doing so was the right course."

He took a notice of the nearing dock and a templar who was waving at them. A rope produced in his hands and he passed it to Alistair, who prepared to toss it. Carefully he let the boat to glide the rest of the way and the templar who had greeted them caught the rope and kept the carrier still while the group climbed out.

"Right, if you wait here, I'll go and make another trip", Cullen glanced at the Tower.

"Wait", Wynne halted him. "There's...one more thing. You should be present to hear it."

Cullen lifted his brow. He asked the other templar to hold on for a moment and followed Wynne to the Wardens.

The mage's shoulders slumped and she evaded the knight's eyes. "Rebeka doesn't use her own name, not even one or two names. But there's one...distinctive feature which could easily identify her. None of you must not spread this fact."

_This tale is not going to end well_, Cullen recalled his earlier thoughts. "By keeping this secret I'm literally spitting on the templars' laws. Though, I have done that already, so I promise not to ever expose what you have told me today."

It wasn't Iselda or any of her party Wynne gazed at. It was Cullen. "During the battle, Rebeka... She lost her left arm."

As stunned as the templar was, he bit his tongue to conceal the emotions floating inside him. The smiling face of the brown-haired Amell girl conquered his mind and he wanted to smile back. But that wasn't possible. She was far away, without aid and lots of enemies chasing after her if they realized who she was.

Cullen had never felt so imprisoned to be stationed at the Tower as he did currently.

"I'm going to pick up Irving", he said. "You have my word, Greagoir and the others won't find her."

Wynne was not going to stop him, as she saw his pain. She had to tell him. Cullen needed to know what rumors to believe. Presumably there weren't many one-armed mages in Ferelden, but when someone would start having stories of one, it would act as proof for him that Rebeka was alive. Being able to recognize her from the suspects would help him mislead the templars.

Love was the most efficient way of having ones complete trust. In Wynne's opinion, Rebeka's trust was well placed.

0-0-0-0-0

"What are you doing?" Laryll shifted behind Alistair to get a better look.

"Nothing relevant really", the crouching Warden replied and straightened his back, grunting when it let out a tiny popping sound.

Iselda had insisted on break when they had traveled for some time. She assured it had nothing to do with Irving being old and fragile, although she may have accidentally said that aloud. Laughter was what they all had lacked due to the Circle disaster, so no-one got offended by her joke.

Laryll had left the group to fill her and Zevran's waterskins by a small stream when she had noticed Alistair. He certainly wasn't here sightseeing because there wasn't that much to lay ones eyes upon. A lot of plants were withered, covered in blackness and the grass was stomped. It seemed like an army had walked here, but everything had been left corrupted and ugly. The darkspawn were not the nicest folk.

"Actually, I have a question for you", Laryll quit staring at the gloomy landscape. "Do you remember your dream in the Fade?"

"Yeah", Alistair lowered his head. "Sorry, but I'd rather not relive it."

"I'm not going to ask you to do so", the redhead shook her hands. "It's just that you said something that perplexed me. That the King was your brother."

The Warden's jaw dropped and he rubbed his short hair while chuckling. "Oh my, I can't believe that I've forgotten to mention about it to you. Iselda hasn't gossiped? That's new."

"Well, uh", he cleared his throat, "the truth is, I'm King Maric's bastard son, so Cailan was kinda my half-brother. It's not common knowledge, so you don't have to give me that look."

Laryll quickly blinked and coughed a little. "Then you're...?"

"Don't say it. I don't care about the throne nor politics. Arl Eamon, the man who was poisoned at the Castle, should be the one to take the crown, because he's Cailan's uncle. Not me who doesn't even have proper table manners."

As he spoke, Laryll understood more. Apparently, this Arl raised Alistair, which explained why Isolde had known him and why he was so eager to help Eamon. The Warden told her how he had been sent to the Chantry and how Duncan had recruited him, just before he could take his templar vows.

The rogue smiled, glad to see humans who wouldn't wish to abuse their dignity. It was tough to picture Alistair as a king, although she wouldn't mind if that were to become reality. City elves didn't really get the details of what was going on outside the alienage. They knew who were above them and had to accept that. But for some reason Laryll believed that would change if a man like Alistair were to be the King, despite his unwillingness.

Her mind resembled a maze because of Zevran, so thinking about such human-like matters was a very good distraction.

"I'm sorry for not saying anything until now, I just kinda forgot", the Warden made a gesture of apology.

Laryll laughed a little. "It's okay. Shall we go back?"

With a grin, Alistair patted the elf's shoulder and walked past her.

"Oh and Alistair?" she called.

"Hmm?" the Warden turned his head.

"I think Iselda will like your gift." She smirked and returned the pat he had given her before prancing away, leaving the man quite flushed.

* * *

**Notes: Ugh, so much dialogue, but guess some parts of stories require lot of it. I hope that the quality hasn't suffered because of my current busy schedule, but I'll apologize just in case if it is so.**

**Oo it's going to be the 20th chapter next, wonder what kind of surprises it'll bring?**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Like I promised, no bloody fights this time. And no, these kind of chapters are not all going to be divided this way (you'll know what I mean once you read).**

**I've never written romance before this, which is one of the reasons this took some time to finish. Trying to search for correct words and build up the atmosphere for these kind of scenes, not so easy for one whose been writing action-based stories since preschool. But I hope you'll like it.**

**Enjoy!**

Traveling at night wasn't an option to Iselda, so she more or less ordered to prepare a camp. It shouldn't take more than half a day to reach the Castle, even less with a good rest to strengthen their stamina. Tents were positioned so that at least one person would hear a possible enemy approaching. The templars insisted on placing Irving's at the center of the camp, obviously to keep a better eye on him. The Warden didn't object, though after excusing herself she muttered filthy words directed at them.

It was a shame Sten wasn't here. He always preferred to stay awake, guarding the others and cleaning his two-handed battleaxe. Alistair volunteered to take the first watch, though Iselda was keeping him company because she couldn't sleep yet. She thought poking the fire with a stick would bore her so much she would close her eyes. But the lovely sound of crackling sparks and the warming flames made her continue staring.

She sighed and glanced the sky. Only a couple of stars could be seen, as the clouds hid the rest. Nothing indicated that it was going to rain which was more than she could have hoped for. The whole business at the Circle wasn't something to be laughing about later and honestly, she preferred to forget about Uldred and his abominations. She remembered a time when a group of entertainers visited her hometown and she couldn't stop giggling while clapping her hands in the audience with her father.

She would welcome such group with open arms right now.

"You're grinning", Alistair's voice pulled Iselda back from her thoughts.

"Should I not?" she hugged her legs and rested her head on the knees.

"Usually, when you grin to yourself like that, it means you're thinking about either your family or food."

Iselda snorted. "I'd like to say it's a slice of crispy bacon that's conquering my mind, but no, it's not." She faced the fire, letting it warm her cold cheeks. "My father always told me that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. The Circle didn't kill me, but I'm not stronger."

After feeding the flames with some wood, Alistair leaned back. The woman he considered as their leader rarely talked about her feelings. She showed only the bright side of herself, burying her past so that it wouldn't affect her performance. The first time she had mentioned any details of the murder of the Couslands was after Duncan's death. Even then, she had done it to comfort Alistair, to tell him he wasn't the only one who had lost someone important.

And now she was quiet again. Alistair knew she wasn't going to continue. Her mouth would move faster than light if it helped others, but was swiftly sealed when it got personal. He recalled asking what was her story when they had been collecting darkspawn blood for the Joining ritual. 'A Cousland does not have a story' she had replied.

_She'll like it_, he convinced himself with Laryll's words before opening a pouch on his belt and gently lifting a red rose from it. "Here", he handed the flower to Iselda, whose look was quite puzzled. "You know what this is?"

"You're new weapon of choice?" the female Warden sneered as she brushed the crimson petals.

"Yes, that's right. Watch as I trash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements! Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" Alistair boasted and sniffed the air.

Iselda chuckled and carefully rolled the flower between her thumb and index finger, her eyes fixed on its beauty. "Or it could just be a rose", she laughed a little.

"Aw, you ruined my moment of glory", Alistair lowered his head, but quickly met Iselda's gaze again. "No, it's not 'just a rose'. When I found it, I began to think about Lothering, how it got destroyed by darkspawn. Everything they touch gets tainted, but not this one. Even when their armies have likely passed through this area too, it has still remained pure and beautiful."

The way Iselda's body was acting was beginning to confuse her. She had experienced sweaty palms, racing heart and tingling on her skin before, all of them at the same time when facing an opponent who would be tricky to deal with. But those sensations were different now. If she would try to grab her sword, the handle would feel slippery. The excitement she felt wasn't that of a battlefield. It was far more pleasant.

"That's a nice sentiment", Iselda smiled to Alistair. "You should use it as a weapon more often."

"It's the only kind of weapon I would ever dare to use against you", the Warden smirked and wondered was it a blush he saw on the warrior's face. "I wanted to give the rose to you, I thought it resembled you in a lot of ways."

A flower's smell is very hard to describe, but when Iselda's nose touched the soft petals, her mind was filled with hope and joy, pushing anything related to the Blight into a dark corner. She wished to drown herself with these emotions flying inside her. If she could, she would break her sword, buy a house and have her own family without need to ask twice.

However, this is the Blight. Everyone had chosen her to lead. Her father had taught her that true happiness could not be achieved if there was a darkness looming over it. Curtains had to be opened before any sunlight could shine into a room.

Maybe she wasn't a good Cousland anymore, because without further thinking, she gave the biggest grin to Alistair. "Feeling little thorny, are we?"

The former templar's eyes closed due to his chuckling. "Ah hah, 'she'll never see through that' I told myself. Boy was I wrong, totally wrong!"

The rose was too small to cover Iselda, but still she attempted to do so. A sneeze would be inevitable if she didn't do something about the tickling and she knew how stupid she looked, her arched mouth peeping behind the flower. What would her brother say if he saw how childishly she behaved?

It was her wish to change. She would never abandon her parents' teachings, but even the wisest words sometimes required a bit polishing. Blaming herself for the deaths of her brother's wife and child wasn't going to bring them back. She had sworn to protect them while Fergus was away and would always remember the guilt she had felt for being unable to fulfill that promise, but wasn't going to let it kill her very soul. There were a lot of things she desired and wished to live for, like teasing Alistair and seeing the results. Apparently, his gift was one of those.

Would it be wrong to fight against the Blight while being happy?

"Thank you, Alistair", Iselda breathed, posing with the rose that touched her cheek.

"I'm glad you like it", the Warden smiled and rose to his feet, thinking of getting some more wood. But after taking a step, he turned back to Iselda. "You know, being a Grey Warden isn't supposed to be death and tragedy all the time. It's unfair that you haven't seen the good side of being one since your Joining. Everyone's just telling you what to do and won't even thank you in return."

"I'm quite used to that, though some people would prefer me not to be so stubborn and actually have my own opinions", Iselda laughed, but couldn't joke more once realizing how serious her fellow Warden looked.

"I just wanted to tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are amongst all this...darkness. That even if the others don't care about your feelings, I do."

The color of the rose was spreading to the skin on Iselda's face like a disease. Of course it wasn't the first time someone had flattered her. Every hug and kiss she had experienced with men had been just hugs and kisses, nothing else. She hadn't seen the necessity for a permanent partner or sex, partly due to her father's advice. Until meeting this Warden.

When Alistair turned around again, Iselda winced a little. _Decide now, woman_, she ordered herself. _Are you a Cousland or Iselda?_

She jumped up and grabbed Alistair's hand before he could flee. A pair of wondering eyes stared at her while hers examined the ground until she could lift her chin. "I have seen the good side of being a Grey Warden", she said in a low voice. "That's having you by my side."

"Oh?" the blushing man lifted his brow. "What's that? I think I must confirm that I just heard you right."

"Yes you did, you prince of fools", Iselda crooned and slowly pressed her lips against Alistair's, her palm on his shoulder while the other didn't let go of the rose. The softness and heat surprised her and made her want to taste more. Everything she had learned that wouldn't allow this was now just echoes in the back of her mind. Her heart couldn't wait, Archdemon or no.

She was delighted that Alistair wasn't shocked and didn't stop her. His fingers slid through Iselda's loose hair and his thumb brushed her ear. Her breathing became uncontrolled and was quite heavy, but that didn't make her cancel the kiss. Not until her lower lip turned numb did Iselda calmly release herself, sighing from pleasure and smiling.

"I...wasn't too hasty, was I?" she thought she should ask.

Alistair stroked her cheek with his index. "Not at all. I wasn't entirely certain if you...felt the same way about me."

"Huh, I must suck at flirting then", Iselda snickered and gazed at the flower once more. "Thank you, for going through this 'Warden business' with me."

"I'm a lucky man to be here", Alistair smirked and glanced behind him. "Now, um, am I free to silently take my leave before my ears burn to ashes?"

"Aw, and you were doing so well, just look at my legs", Iselda shook her wobbly limbs and gestured at them.

"Won't be good for you to have too many sweets at once", the male Warden moved some of the warrior's hair in order to give a kiss on her forehead. His boots bent the grass when he walked away, taking a final glimpse of smiling Iselda before concentrating on finding firewood.

The only survivor of the Cousland family stood still for a moment before she spun around and headed to her tent. Dog was there waiting for her, whining in confusion of when was its master going to sleep. A pat on the mabari's head calmed it down and it seemed relieved after the Warden had stripped her armor and dived into her bedroll. The way how Dog pawed its blanket before lying down charmed Iselda. She would have given her full attention to the animal if there wasn't the most lovely rose she'd ever seen on her backpack snatching her gaze.

_Be prepared, pup. Those who become attached to you will also become your enemies' greatest weapon and your greatest weakness._

"Pfft", she snorted and wished for nice dreams.

0-0-0-0-0

The color of the ceiling of Zevran's tent wasn't appealing at all, but it was the only thing in his sight and closing his eyes seemed impossible. His arms were crossed under his head and he had taken off only his body armor. Shockingly, he hadn't even brushed his unbraided hair.

He thought of Antiva, his time with the Crows. Becoming one wasn't something he regretted, it was his actions during the past ten years or so. He should have disobeyed when told not to write to Laryll anymore. Although, he admitted that stopping the letters made it easier for him to do all the things which had been necessary as an Antivan assassin. There wouldn't have been right words if his friend had started to ask about matters like love. Truthfully, he still wasn't sure what his answer would be.

He was a good Crow, one of the best. That's why everybody believed he had taken the job of killing the Wardens. The Guildmaster had high expectations of him and looked forward to his return as the victor. The elf had had showed potential by completing more missions than most of the Crows at his age and by going to extremes, no matter the situation. But what the Guildmaster, Taliesin or anyone didn't know was the real reason behind it all. Zevran hadn't laid and killed his targets to prove how dedicated he was. He hadn't accepted Loghain's task to get a promotion.

It was all to get an opportunity to go to Ferelden. To ensure Laryll was alright. Alive.

"Boo", came from the entrance, in a very pathetic voice.

"I'm not asleep, if that's what you're trying to ask", the Antivan rose to sit, holding his laughter at Laryll whose head peeked through the door flaps.

The redhead didn't wait for a permission to enter, but swiftly found a spot where she could seat herself, quite close to Zevran. She wore a long-sleeved shirt and the legs of her trousers were rolled up to her knees. Clearly she was more interested in something else than looking formal.

To break the silence, she glanced at Zevran's face and searched with her gaze. "Your injury... There are not even scars left", she smiled slightly.

"The wonders of healing magic, right?" the elf grinned.

Laryll turned her head and became as unresponsive as a tree, which created a small lump in the assassin's throat. It hadn't been a surprise that she came here, but even though Zevran wanted to give her the explanation she demanded, he felt uneasy. In order to do that, a few simple, but precious words would need to be said aloud. Last time he had been gravely punished.

The same fear he had experienced at the Castle slowly crept along his spine.

"I owe you an apology", he said while leaning a bit forward.

"I don't recall ever witnessing you like this", Laryll couldn't look into Zevran's eyes when she stated that. "Usually you talk so much it can be annoying sometimes."

"It has never been my intention to annoy you."

"See, this is what I meant!" the rogue's hands hit the blankets between the elves and her purple eyes flared. "Talk to me, Zev. Please."

The twisting inside her hurt like hell. Had she been wrong? It was her fault for requesting time to think about this...relationship, wasn't it? Well she had had enough of thinking and running like a coward. What Zevran had said to her after the fight with Uldred had made her believe he truly shared her feelings, that she wouldn't have to command her heart not to pound so hard anymore.

Anxiety screamed from Laryll, which triggered Zevran's will to speak. "Do you remember the Fade?"

After some confused blinking, the elf nodded. Those nightmares weren't easy to forget, though she sensed a knot in her stomach upon realizing that the Antivan also seemed to have a clear memory of his dream.

"It was like watching my past. Rinna's death, the letter from your father..."

Laryll flinched. "That... Did Cyrion really...?"

"Of course not", Zevran corrected quickly. "Not for a moment did I think he had written it. I guess it was the Guildmaster or someone else, trying to make me sever any remaining connections to anyone outside the Crows. I was fifteen, old enough to use my own brains and see through such scheme."

Hearing that Zevran hadn't doubted her father was a relief, but Laryll still felt pain in her chest. To think that people were ready to hurt him so badly just to own him made her grit her teeth. Did he not have friends among the assassins besides the woman he loved? Even that had been denied from him in the end. Laryll couldn't be jealous. She was angry and hoped to meet the one who had done such thing to Zevran and bleed the bastard dry.

The Antivan leaned against his palm, the flickering light inside a lantern near the entrance dancing in his eyes. "I didn't believe it, yet I... After reading the letter, I couldn't breathe, move or think. It was like my soul had frozen and was slowly turning my whole body into ice. It took every ounce of my strength to recover from that."

His hand was chilly when Laryll put hers on it and sought the elf's gaze. "I had no idea, Zev. This is just throwing salt on wounds, you don't have to-"

"My dear, I'm the one who first forced you to talk", the assassin glanced, the corner of his mouth lifted. "What kind of man would I be if I didn't do the same in return?"

Snapping her lips shut, Laryll ditched the words she was going to say and became silent. She didn't even realize how her fingers curled tighter around Zevran's. His voice was sad and his struggle to keep his usual calm and smirk was like a deadly arrow in her heart. There hadn't been a day she didn't have Zevran in her thoughts while living in the alienage. She would stare out of the window, looking at the birds and whisper in the wind, wishing that they would take her messages to him.

At the same time, he had been in a state of excruciating darkness, not knowing whether Laryll was actually alive or not. All because of one piece of paper.

"I can understand why you weren't in a talkative mood, if this is what has been running in your mind", the rogue began to withdrew her hand when she noticed how hard she had been squeezing.

But Zevran snatched it back and brought it close to his face. "No, you don't. When I allowed myself to enjoy life again, I met Rinna. With her, I was finally able to comprehend the emotions I felt during our time apart. Such word doesn't exist among the Crows, which is why I never used it."

"When Taliesin struck Rinna down, my soul froze again. That sensation was the proof I needed, to be sure. It's why I came to Ferelden. It's why I searched for you and why I'm afraid."

Fighting the tears back became difficult for Laryll. With the back of her free palm she swiftly wiped one from her cheek and her eyes fluttered to cease the rest. She couldn't find a proper reason for her reaction. Was it pity? Grief? Joy? Maybe all of them together.

"Zev...", her voice broke and all she could do was stare.

"I don't want to ever feel that ice again", the Antivan softly brushed Laryll's hair and tucked some of it behind her ear. He managed to give a short smile. "I'm hesitating, because I can't watch the woman I love die in front of me again."

The redhead was blushing, but it was much more pleasant than before. The energy that surged inside her felt good and intoxicating. She wasn't a young girl who giggled and shifted nervously because of being perversely flattered by her crush. Laryll was a grown woman who was about to burst into tears to show how happy she was to hear the words she had wished for, from the man who she gladly would tell the same.

Seeing Zevran's face now was the sign she required to go forward. "I told you already in the Fade. I will never die and I certainly will not leave you." Her arms circled around the assassin, his heartbeat against her ear. "I love you, _mi __á__mbar_."

When the Antivan hugged Laryll back and let his fingers dive into the smooth sea of red, every bit of tension vanished. His strength was regenerating and the desert in his mouth retreated. To at last hold her without ghosts of pain reminding him how ugly it could turn out was relieving. It enforced the flame which had been burning inside him for years, dimming only when his own fears had pulled him back to look at the past.

That fire wouldn't need to be rekindled ever again, this Zevran could promise to himself. Calling Laryll the love of his life had been a mistake after defeating Uldred. It had caused his chest to ache and scold himself for playing with her clear feelings. Lost like a lamb, he had tried to solve the puzzle alone in his head, ignoring everything else around him. No more would he have to hide. No longer would he tease Laryll just to seem his normal self. He will do that because he cared for her.

Tenderly Zevran tugged the elf's hair to make her meet his eyes. No phrase would be sufficient enough to answer her confession, so his hand pushed her head closer and he kissed her lips. The warmth on her skin sent vibrations through his body which only fed him more. Soon Laryll was able to keep up and her mouth moved in synch with Zevran's.

He had known for so long. After joining the Crows, he had got strength from thinking about this elf. Years later the others had discussed about how they had seduced random women and couldn't wait to use those skills against assassination targets. But not him. He had pictured how hurt Laryll would be if he behaved like such beast. Gradually his desire to protect her had changed into wanting her. Tricking women into bed wasn't something he had enjoyed. It had helped him to fill the empty hole inside him and sometimes during a job it had literally saved his life. He had to live so that he could one day kiss Laryll like this.

A tiny bite on the girl's lip released a small gasp from her, probably due to the surprise. For the assassin however it acted as a bait. His leather-protected palm traced the curve on Laryll's back while his mouth devoured even wetter kisses. She shivered a little when his fingers got under her shirt this time and stroked her back, though her mind was taken by Zevran's tongue touching hers. Laryll's loud breathing made her cheeks hot and she knew her legs would have given away if she wasn't sitting on the ground already.

It was so arousing and new that she wasn't sure should she stop. The only thing she knew right now was that she loved Zevran and that she had been permitted to kiss him. In Denerim she had missed for his company, voice and even perverted jokes. As her lips were moistened by his, she understood that she had wanted so much more.

Slowly the Antivan managed to get the rogue to lay on her back while their lips were still tightly connected. Being totally addicted, he gently brushed Laryll's sides and stomach under her clothes and felt pleasure when her fingers played with his hair. The girl's other hand was crossed with his left one and she squeezed hard when Zevran's lips found her neck. The assassin's idea was to mark her, so that no-one would steal her from him, so he sucked the rogue's skin and smiled when she suddenly let out a louder moan than she had intended. With a weak squirming Laryll tried to gesture that the amount of embarrassment was beginning to make her feel a bit awkward.

After seizing her mouth for one final passionate embrace, the Antivan's look could have been used as an universal definition for smirking. "Do you wish me to express my feelings even more accurately or are you willing to forgive me my silence, _mi rub__í_?"

Laryll attempted to laugh but the requirement of remembering how to breathe at the same time made her sound funny. "I, ah... I'm quite satisfied."

"Really? What a shame, it's still hours till sunrise", Zevran rolled to his side next to the rogue and supported his head with his arm, hungry gaze leering at her.

"Ah hah... You're serious?" Laryll looked somehow stunned.

"Sadly, no", the assassin wrapped a tress of her hair around his index. "_That_ night is going to be the most beautiful ever, without any depressing topics to meddle in it."

Watching Laryll's flushed face was like a prize to Zevran. Her smile, scent and touch drugged him, but no matter how tempted he was, her comfort was the priority. It would be just the two of them and there wasn't going to be a possessed son of the Arl to be taken care of first.

"Zev", Laryll muttered when she wasn't feeling too embarrassed anymore. "Can I... Can I spend the night here? And no sneering, damn it, I just want to-"

The Antivan didn't change the look on his face, but moved a bit in order to cuddle the elf. Her head got pressed against his chest and was stroked by his right hand. Zevran grabbed a blanket behind him and covered themselves with it, giving most of it to Laryll who became relaxed and rather sleepy compared to how active she was a while ago.

"Thank you, my dear", the assassin said.

Laryll grinned. "Goodnight, _el amor de mi vida_."


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Honestly, there have been so many writing tasks at school that I haven't been able to concentrate on writing anything else. In these past weeks, I've been able to write three sentences for my own novel. Yippee.**

**Anyway, I'll just leave this here and go make me some coffee. The next assignment report demands me to stay awake.**

Iselda decided that she would enjoy the morning sunlight as much as one possibly could. There was no guarantee they would get to bask in it soon again. Her armor would ruin the plan, so she strolled around the camp in her common clothing. As tempting as it was, she didn't take off her boots in fear of stepping on something sharp or otherwise unpleasant. Dog's droppings for instance.

Everything would be packed already if Sten was here. Making a qunari wait and stand still too long when there was a Blight to defeat was one of the things you shouldn't even consider. Although now Connor was the reason Iselda had asked Irving's escorts for help. She hoped Laryll's sleeping drug had worked and that the Arl was still safe.

Glancing at Alistair who was disassembling his tent, she shivered at the thought of how he would react if the man who raised him had been killed by a demon.

"Just where are your eyes wandering, dear Warden?" Zevran smirked, causing the look on Iselda's face abruptly change from worried to surprised when he appeared in front of her.

She coughed a little and lifted a bedroll she had intended to pack from the ground. "Morning to you too, sneaky bastard. I'm free to observe what I want, don't you think?"

"Sure, just make sure to wipe the drool off next time."

Forcing a laugh, the warrior wished to flee the scene but got stopped when she noticed a tent which hadn't been removed yet. "Laryll's not up yet?" she gazed at the assassin.

"Long night, you see", Zevran sighed and looked too satisfied. "It's been ages since we've got to sleep well."

"Uh-huh", Iselda's brows raised.

"You want me to tell the details? I'd love to feed your curiosity, but I'm afraid that she would stab me in face if I did that." Stretching his arms, the elf grinned while walking away. "Oh and no need to stay and wait till she comes out, she didn't sleep there", he added before marching towards the fire, spotting some fried fishes near it.

Iselda watched the Antivan's dancing steps and snorted. Teasing and poking Laryll with her elbow was the first thing she wanted to do once the princess would wake up, but that would be rather unfair if she didn't share her own story first.

So she smacked her lips and continued to smell the fresh air while carrying stuff to be packed.

0-0-0-0-0

The soft blankets were alluring, but the noises awoke Laryll and immediately she scolded herself for oversleeping. Once she managed to pull her tired upper body up, her palm swept the warm face, moving into her tangled hair to scratch it. She could guess without taking a glimpse that Zevran wasn't next to her. He was always awake before her.

Some rustling sounds came from the entrance. Laryll was about to call Zevran's name, but then she heard panting and sniffing. Her jaw dropped when Dog entered and its happy lick erased the last bits of weariness the elf had.

"Okay, okay, I'm up, you stupid _perrito_", she tried to push the excited mabari away, which was like attempting to move a mountain.

After Dog did give way, Laryll searched for her equipment, only to remember that would be in vain. Groaning, she didn't even bother to wear her boots and slightly fixed her shirt so that it wouldn't reveal too much. Zevran's armor was nowhere to be seen, so maybe, just maybe Iselda wouldn't get the wrong idea of her, nearly undressed, exiting the assassin's tent.

Laughing at herself, Laryll stroked the mabari's ears. "Can I hide behind you for the rest of the day if I fail at explaining...this?"

If the animal's language could be understood, the bark Dog gave would certainly have meant 'oh don't ya worry mate, it'll be fine'.

Breathing more desperately than vividly, the rogue stepped outside and smiled once realizing how the sun was blinding her. She would prefer any kind of weather compared to the Fade, but sunny she loved the most. In Antiva, she had always been bored to death when it rained, because it meant the ladies of the Dusk wouldn't allow her to leave home.

She wished to go back there someday. Some of her memories were quite vague because she had been so young, but never would she forget those close to her. Laryll wanted to pick Zevran's mother's favorite flowers and visit her grave. The girls she used to play with had probably moved elsewhere or started a new life in Antiva City. Whatever the case, she couldn't wait to meet them again.

"I see Dog was able to follow my instructions", Iselda's snickering voice startled Laryll.

"If those were 'come up with the most wet way to wake her', then yes, congratulations", the elf avoided looking at the Warden and cursed Zevran's name in her thoughts. Due to him and his quick tongue, Iselda had already known where the redhead had spent her night.

_Just what has he told her, exactly?_ She pretended to be rubbing her eyes, while in fact she used her chilled hands to cool her blushing cheeks. "It, uh, seems like we're going to leave soon?" she muttered, changing the subject.

Iselda allowed her friend to escape this time and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "The sooner the better. The Archdemon is not going to wait for us and we don't stand a chance without the Arl's help."

Laryll nodded and her attention got caught by a certain Antivan at the fire, who was gesturing at her. Both relieved and awkward for the opportunity to get out of the Warden's reach, she tilted her head at the assassin's direction. "I think that _bocazas_ over there needs something", she smiled and slowly dragged her legs away from Iselda.

"Yeah, maybe the mark on your neck is so visible that even he got worried", the warrior hummed and didn't have the heart to watch the rogue's reaction. After she turned around, she heard a gasp followed by a slap, which was caused by Laryll's hand trying to cover the red spot.

Listening to Iselda's whistling for a while, the elf sighed and moved her fingers. Hiding would be foolish. Not only it would look weird, but it wasn't what she wished. If she was going to be with Zevran, then the relationship shouldn't be a secret and she shouldn't be embarrassed. To talk about his feelings hadn't been easy for Zevran because of his past and Laryll didn't want him to experience such pain ever again.

So, with confidence, she approached the assassin who sat on a log and before he could start the conversation with a witty joke, her back curved and their lips touched. A small, yet delicate kiss was enough and she seated herself.

"Huh, wasn't expecting that to be honest, _mi rub__í_", Zevran chuckled.

"There are quite a lot of things you wouldn't expect of me I'm sure", Laryll grinned and wiped grass from her toes.

"Oh? Now I'm dying to know what those might be."

The redhead's foot shifted fast when she felt her nails on the sole. "Well, I tickle easily as you can see."

"That I have known for fifteen years at least", Zevran leaned forward and put his index under Laryll's chin. "Perhaps the other more...concealed parts of your body hold some mysteries I'm not aware of?"

All flushed, the rogue squeezed her eyes shut and continued to laugh as her head lowered. "I give up. I can't stare at that face while you're talking about... Ow, my stomach, I seriously hate you sometimes."

"You started it, _mi bella_", the smirking Antivan brushed Laryll's hair and rose up. "Grab something to eat and I'll take care of your tent. Or are there private things inside I shouldn't see?"

"Just begone already. By the gods, I'm beginning to regret ever falling in love with you."

"Ooh, that would be a nice challenge. To make yourself mine over and over again."

The rogue's annoyed leer was finally able to shoo Zevran away. Once he was gone, Laryll took some bread and hoped that her chewing sounds would replace the echoes of seduction and teasing in her ears.

0-0-0-0-0

The group got a bit tense when they entered the front yard of the Redcliffe Castle. Not that the templars had spoken much to begin with, but even they shared their opinions of how sinister the atmosphere felt. Some bones of the walking undead Iselda and the others had killed on their first visit were still scattered around. A flock of ravens had surrounded one corpse, fighting over an eyeball. Those who had given up were pecking new holes on the body.

Wincing, Laryll avoided looking at the dead and stayed close to Zevran. If Connor was still under the effect of the drug she had suggested, there should be nothing to worry about. Yet she couldn't shake the images off. Her daggers, pointed at her friends while a voice in the back of her mind had screamed to stop such madness. Were she as weak as she had been before, the rogue wouldn't dare to climb the stairs twice.

Both Irving and Wynne halted the rest, glancing at the doors. The First Enchanter slightly lifted a staff in his hands and the orb on top of it began to glimmer faintly. He positioned himself at the center of the party and with a single command word, the light spread and touched everybody in its reach. Excluding the templars, everyone was left quite surprised.

"It's a simple protection spell against any evil we might encounter", Wynne clarified, receiving a lot of nodding as an answer. "Let's go, the child requires our aid."

For Laryll, making haste suited just fine. The place made her jumpy and eager to be elsewhere.

When they pushed the doors open, a spooked gasp came from inside, followed by a metallic sound of a sword being drawn. Irving's escorts were quick to react, but Iselda hissed at them to lower their weapons.

"It's us", she informed and took a few steady steps forward. "We have the First Enchanter here, he'll be able to help Connor."

After hearing her son's name, Isolde rushed from the hall and stared at the Warden. There were black circles around her eyes and loose locks of her hair were set on her shoulders. Soon Teagan caught up with the arlessa and he didn't look any more vivacious than her.

"My boy... He's going to be saved?" Isolde sobbed, fingers over her mouth.

Irving ignored the templars and walked to the woman. "I promise, my lady, that the child will be freed", he gently took Isolde's hand into his and smiled softly. "Could you show me the way so that we can proceed?"

With a happy nod, the arlessa blinked her tears away and led the group to upstairs. The knights remained at the hall, stating that they would keep guard in case of undead – or escaping mages. Wynne's only argument was a silent snort.

Even if Laryll didn't like the Orlesian that much, right now she was just a mother concerned about her son. After they entered Connor's room, she remarked how tidy it was compared to the dusty corridors and bloody carpets she had seen downstairs. The air smelled fresh and she couldn't find a single trace of stain anywhere.

Laryll glanced at the arlessa. She had erased all evidence which could implicate Connor to the horrors in the Castle. None of the tracks of blood went to his chambers which Isolde had kept clean for the child. She hadn't lost a bit of her hope. A demon wouldn't care about such things as purity, but Isolde had believed that Connor would return back to himself. That she could once again welcome him home.

"He's lucky to have a mother like you", Laryll suddenly said, her glad face meeting the Orlesian's who was quite stunned at first.

"I... Thank you", she stuttered, the high heels clattering against the hard floor as she went to Connor who was asleep in his bed, Jowan by his side.

Iselda smirked and followed the arlessa. It had been a mistake to try and hide the boy's magic without telling him about the dangers of demons. The mother, however, had done it in order to protect her son and because she didn't want to part with him. A lot of people had died as a result, yet the Warden couldn't really judge Isolde because she knew she would do the same for her loved ones. If catching Howe meant Iselda would have to go to the ends of the world, then that was what she was going to do.

"What was that?" Zevran asked, rolling a strand of Laryll's hair around his finger.

"I'll tell you later, _mi __á__mbar_", the rogue smirked and skittered after the others.

It was going to need some time for the assassin to get used to being called with that word by adult Laryll, although he would never get bored of hearing it from her lips.

Jowan quickly rose up when he noticed Irving, whose glare was intimidating. "Ah! T-the First Enchanter! I-I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd come here, I would have-"

"Run away?" Irving finished the mage's sentence and shook his head. "The time to deal with you comes later, Jowan. The child is the priority now."

He waved at Wynne, who handed over all the lyrium they had received from the Tower. A heavy carpet got moved by Irving's foot and he drew white symbols with a piece of chalk on the revealed area, finally connecting them with lines. Wynne sprinkled lyrium on specific spots and poured the most of it at the center of the pattern.

Irving remained calm as he turned to Isolde, waiting for a confirmation. Having no other option, the arlessa nodded weakly and watched as Alistair lifted Connor and carried him. The First Enchanter advised him where the boy had to be carefully laid down and clenched his staff. Some of the lyrium faintly swirled around him for a while and the Warden got chills from the amount of magic he sensed.

With his eyes closed, Irving inhaled and tried not to move a muscle. "I'm ready if you are, my lady."

"Wait."

The First Enchanter slowly gazed at Jowan, whose nervous voice had interrupted him.

"Please, let me do it", the blood mage begged, his head respectively lowered. "I-I have screwed up so many times already and I'm... I'm not afraid of whatever punishment the templars have for me. But I... I want to do something good before I die. I wish to correct the wrongs I did to this family."

Wynne's eyes were wide from displeased emotions. "The demon is too strong", she protested. "He could trap you, just like Niall."

Jowan didn't really know what the healer was talking about, but nevertheless, he gave a determined leer. "I can die peacefully knowing that I did my best to atone. Plus if I don't come back, then consider that as my penalty."

Shocked by his words, Wynne couldn't answer. She couldn't explain that if Jowan would suffer the same fate as Niall, he would be stuck in eternal limbo. He'd be alive and...not alive.

She desperately looked at the others, hoping to get someone to agree with her. Too many novices had died at the Circle already, there was no need to add to the pile. This wasn't bravery, it was stupidity.

"He doesn't have to go alone", Laryll pointed out. "We fought in the Fade once, I can do it again."

"No", Wynne blurted, stopping Zevran from saying the same thing. "_You_ must not enter a demon's realm."

Frowning with questions flying inside her mind, the rogue stared and assumed there would be a proper reason for her friend's strict response. Even Iselda folded her arms over her chest and exchanged glances with Irving and Wynne.

The healer sighed. "I'm worried about what Sloth told you. He acted like he knew you. Sometimes, if a demon finds an unusual or powerful individual, it won't let the prey off its sight. The demon we slayed may have stalked you for longer than you can imagine, which could mean that there are others like Sloth who are, well, interested in you."

"Are you saying that there might be demons after her?" Alistair didn't spare the level of his voice.

"Relax, Warden", the First Enchanter raised his hand. "The ritual allows only one person to be sent into the Fade and that person must be a mage."

"Please, Irving", Jowan attempted again. "Let me do one last thing with my life."

Confused elves, speechless Wardens and arguing mages weren't exactly convincing the arlessa of the outcome of the spell. Connor was all that mattered to her and seeing him so still on the floor made her cry despite her efforts not to. She would take all the blame and it hurt to admit to herself that perhaps the boy's place was at the Circle. If he learned more about his talent, then no demon would harm him anymore.

Isolde swallowed hard and wiped her nose with a fine handkerchief. "I won't ever forgive you, but if you think you can defeat the monster inside my son, then...then I trust you", her expression changed to anger. "But if you betray that trust again, I will kill you by my own hands."

Jowan didn't flinch or smile. He put his palm over his heart and bowed. "My lady, I don't deserve any kindness from you, but if you would give me this second chance, I'd be forever in debt, even in my death. I swear that I'll save your son or die trying."

The mage's humble attitude brought a grin on Laryll's face. Not for a second had she regretted asking Iselda to release Jowan from his prison. Maybe this made the Wardens feel the same if they still were uneasy about it.

Irving rolled his eyes. "Very well", he stepped back to give space for Jowan. "I'll cast the spell on you then. May whoever you believe in watch over you."

The rumor of blood mages having false gods didn't apply to Jowan, but he was not going to object, no matter the issue. Tightly grabbing his wooden staff, he set his feet on a round symbol near Connor. Being well aware of Alistair's disgust towards Jowan's kind, Iselda asked him to be ready to catch the mage once he would fall into slumber. Sharing a kiss with the Cousland had made it difficult for Alistair to say no anymore, so the Warden accepted his task.

Taking a deep breath, Jowan gestured at the First Enchanter. His fingers curled when Irving's mana flowed and activated the lyrium-covered drawings. Words in foreign language got repeated and tiny breeze caused the magical component to dance a little. Iselda patted Isolde's shoulder when she noticed how the arlessa kept rubbing her hands together and praying.

"Good luck", Laryll called out.

Jowan's lids were half-closed when he glimpsed at the elf. "Thanks", he managed to answer before his unconscious body was caught by Alistair.

0-0-0-0-0

The colorless Fade was as grim as it always had been. As Jowan walked forward, his steps made no sound and his skin didn't sweat. Various noises did their best at distracting him, but he bit his lip and advanced. There was nothing worth admiring in the Fade. Locating Connor was his only goal.

"Connor! Where are you? Son!"

Gasping, Jowan quickly turned left at the crossroads and saw the Arl. All around him were ghosts of the boy, each of them wandering silently and not even once approaching Eamon. The demon's dreams were very sadistic indeed.

"I'm sorry, my lord", Jowan carefully tried to talk to the spirit. "As I promised your wife, I will free him."

Leaving the fake Arl behind, the mage went through a purple portal in search for other areas where Connor might have been. He reached a small hill and on top of it was the child, as innocent looking as he would be without a demon using him as a vessel.

Connor's head turned and he glared. "Why are you doing this?" his voice was twisted by evil. "Father's alive now. If you kill the demon, he'll die too!"

"That's the risk we have to take", Jowan stood firm. "He's strong enough to fight the poison for couple of more days until the Wardens find a cure for him. But what really would help him is his son beside him, uncontrolled."

He truly believed himself, that Eamon would get better. His own hesitation had prevented him from putting a full dose of the poison in the Arl's drink, which would have stopped his heart instantly. The vial holding those last crucial drops had shattered next to a dining table at the same time the Arl had collapsed. Blood magic could have finished the job, but Jowan hadn't been able to move. He hadn't resisted when the guards came and knocked him down. Once he had seen the arlessa's tears, he had confessed and accepted the beating after that. A cell with its rats was a heaven compared to whatever the templars had planned for him.

That was before the undead. When Isolde had come to the basement and accused him of summoning a demon, something had ignited inside him. A light that had told him to smash the door open and fix the situation.

Just like he should have done at the Circle, when Rebeka had helped him escape.

"You are a fool if you think I'll release the boy", the spirit that resembled Connor spoke and transformed into a demon of desire, but Jowan was more than ready.

Every offensive spell he knew got fired at the opponent. His roars scared fatigue away and the creature was given no opportunity to counter. Held by a paralyzing rune, the fight was over in seconds and the spirit vanished.

The mage huffed, but had already discovered a new portal. Using his staff to support him, he slipped through the teleporter and found himself near the same Desire he had encountered. Gritting his teeth, he marched to her and didn't look back.

"Okay, let's not play anymore", the creature giggled. "Do we really have to fight? It's so ugly and messy."

"I don't suppose you have a better idea of handling this?" Jowan shot back, lightning crackling around his fingertips.

"Hmm", Desire brushed her almost naked breasts. "I'm certain there's something I could offer to you in exchange of letting me be."

"I doubt it."

"Not even Lily?"

Jowan stirred and nearly dropped his weapon. He felt his insides heating from anger and it began to enforce the spell in his hand. "Don't you dare to bring her into this."

"How about it?" the demon's earrings jingled. "I'll make sure that you'll meet her and I can continue like this. I really like this boy, such power. You like Lily, so why don't we make a deal?"

Cursing and leaning his forehead against his palm, Jowan remembered how he had dragged the Chantry initiate he loved into his mess. Both her and Rebeka had been captured while he had fled like a coward. There had been a time when he had sworn to rescue Lily after leaving the Circle, but everything just fell apart. Loghain had promised to clear his name, but it was too late. Rebeka had died during the battle at Ostagar and Lily had been transferred to Maker knows where.

No matter how many mistakes Jowan had done in his past, he would never try to correct them with a monster's aid. The apologies he owed were his alone to make. If he could, he would take fresh flowers to Rebeka's grave and tell her he would find Lily. He would even go back to the Circle to apologize to the templar who had been hurt by him.

Suddenly, Jowan's eyes flashed and he swung his staff. The demon attempted to dodge, but its body wouldn't budge. She gnarled under the effect of magical paralysis and shrieked when frost stung her skin like needles.

"No deal", he hissed, protected by a magical rock armor.

"What a pity", Desire licked her lips and touched the ground. Beneath her appeared a glyph which repelled anything that would get too close to her.

Jowan let out a 'tsk' sound and evaded when the demon fired a cone of flames at him. After getting a bit distance between them, he was able to knock the opponent prone with a stony projectile. Refusing to take a break, he gathered the last of his mana and cast a spell of lightning at the immobilized target.

For a moment, he was tricked by Desire, who didn't move until the human took a step forward. She pointed at him and arrows of electricity hit the mage. While Jowan was disoriented by the attack, the demon dashed and dug her claws into his stomach. Before she could rip him open, Jowan got loose and fell. He retreated further away from the enemy and grunted as he pressed the wound.

"Aw, are you done?" Desire laughed and took a taste of the blood. "I did tell you, fighting is ugly and messy. You should have listened to me, poor thing."

She was not expecting a snicker from the mage as a reply. "Well, too bad for you, I'm used to getting my hands dirty."

Somewhat happy that he didn't have to cut himself, Jowan slowly lifted his bloodied hand and the crimson liquid swirled around him. He was cautious not to use too much blood. Borrowing the power of forbidden magic once more hadn't been his intention, but he would not think twice if it could defeat the monster and save Connor.

The demon wasn't going to just stand and watch so she charged. Her action was not left unnoticed. Jowan's blood became his source of mana and his mind blasting spell stunned Desire. Staggering movements led Jowan farther from the enemy and be began to mumble the next spell alrealy.

"You piece of shit!" the creature screamed when the effect faded. "I will not be killed by a brat like you!"

Her claws met Jowan's staff and her strength was enough to push him on the ground. He struggled at keeping the opponent away, but continued to chant.

"Shut up!" Desire commanded and succeeded at cutting the mage's cheek.

Despite her irritation and his adverse position, Jowan knew that this was his last chance, so even when his arms trembled and he felt dizzy, he kept going. The blood from the new wound joined with the red mana circling his fingers and a bloody fist made of stone produced by magic slammed the demon, emptying her lungs and shoving her off.

Not wasting a second, Jowan got up. The lightning bolts he threw were colored red and blue and while the normal-looking ones shocked the creature, the ones made of blood pierced her, leaving her open-mouthed and suffering. He averted his gaze, because the sight made him nauseous. Once he couldn't hear any gurgles or gasps, he slumped and looked at his sticky hands.

"Never again, I swear", Jowan muttered, relieved that the smells tended to be nonexistent in the Fade. "Hurry up, First Enchanter. I think I'm dying."

* * *

**Notes: _bocazas = blabbermouth_**

**The new cover is an illustration of Laryll from my sketchbook. For a better image, check out the link on my profile.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Thank you for R/R/F/F! I'm always happy to see new readers, love you all!**

**It's half term week again and although I've got my hands full, I found some time to finish this chapter and FINALLY get the next quest started.**

**Nothing else to say really, I'm off to prepare a presentation as part of an assignment.**

**Enjoy!**

Laryll glanced at Isolde, who was biting her nails, some red paint getting stuck on her teeth. No-one knew what was going on in the Fade, but the battle had to be hard. Jowan's nose had started bleeding and occasionally Connor's fingers twitched. Judging from the sweat dripping off Irving's forehead, the ritual had lasted longer than it should. The air was so thick of tension that it could be cut with a knife.

Sighing, the rogue turned her gaze at Zevran, who was always ready to smile at her, whatever the situation. She was happy, but had no idea how to enjoy it while there were so many people like the arlessa whose whole family was in danger. It wasn't about whether she deserved it or not. After everything she had been through, only the Maker himself had the right to deny such things from her.

Suddenly Connor inhaled sharply and his eyes moistened, like all the tears he had wanted to shed flowed out at the same time. Iselda had to stop the mother from rushing to him, careful not to use too much force against her fragile body.

"He did it", the First Enchanter muttered. "Hurry, Wynne. Help me to dispel this."

The healer was already prepared to offer every bit of her mana. One by one the runes on the floor dimmed and finally disappeared. Irving grunted and slowly pointed his staff at the line of lyrium which was connected to Jowan. A spark of light ran along it, reaching the mage and causing his skin to warm up.

Laryll approached Jowan and knelt beside him. She touched his cheek with the back of her hand and felt a strong pulse from his wrist. Then she shot a glance at Alistair and gestured at the Arl's son, making the Warden to say 'oh, right' and hurry to check the boy's condition. She was not going to let Isolde near Connor before it was certain the demon was gone.

Alistair hadn't even stepped inside the circle at the center before the child yanked himself up and glanced around, breathing heavily and blinking his eyes fast. "W-What... Where...", he tried to speak and to lean against his weak arms. His strength wasn't enough and Alistair caught him before he could collapse.

"Connor!" Isolde was released from Iselda's grip and ran to her son, cupping his wet face into her shaky hands. "Oh, my boy, are you okay? How are you feeling?"

While Connor attempted to assure his mother that he was fine, Irving turned his attention to Jowan, who was waking up. The clacking of his staff reached the mage's ears and despite Laryll's prohibition, Jowan quickly arose and clenched his teeth in order to stay on his feet.

"You have done well", the First Enchanter admitted and saw even Wynne giving an agreeing look.

The ritual had left the blood mage quite exhausted, but he gulped and remained calm. "Anyone would have done the same in my place. Well, maybe not just anyone, but, ah... You know what I mean."

"I do", Irving answered with a serious expression. "I'm sure the arlessa is grateful, but..."

Jowan drew his lips into a thin line and lowered his head. "First Enchanter, the demon wasn't able to punish me, but that doesn't mean that my crimes should be forgotten. If you still wish me to answer for them, then I'll do it without complaint. Although I'd prefer a quick, clean death. I already fled the Tower because I didn't want to become a Tranquil, you know. Of course it is up to you, or the templars, or-"

"Stop babbling nonsense, Jowan!" Laryll growled, making Zevran and the others to stare at her stunned. "You can't possibly just give up like that! You saved Connor. Hell, the entire Castle would be lost if you didn't stay here next to him and risk your life. That has to count for something!"

Her gaze targeted Irving next, whose gray eyes didn't look away. The First Enchanter could have said that if Jowan had failed, he or Wynne would have entered the Fade, after he had rested for a while. He could have reminded the elf that the Arl is dying because of Jowan, which had driven Connor to make a deal with a demon. There were plenty of reasons why not even this one act of kindness shouldn't lessen his penalty.

Irving was a bit lost, so he took a glimpse of everyone in the room. The crying arlessa holding her son, relieved and smiling male Warden, the blond grinning elf leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, the redhead standing between him and Jowan and finally the only survivor of the Cousland family.

"He did save the child", Iselda shrugged. "You could decide his fate here and now, or leave him to wait for the Arl's judgment."

After Isolde helped Connor up, she cleared her throat and looked at Irving. "My husband needs see the man who poisoned him." She brushed her son's brown hair and glanced at Jowan. "My heart can't forgive this mage, yet he brought my boy back. The only mercy I can show him is to allow him to live till Eamon can face him himself."

"And if the Arl doesn't wake up?" Wynne had to present the painful question.

"He will", Laryll didn't hesitate and smirked at Alistair. "We will make sure of that."

"Absolutely", the Warden concurred.

Teagan, who hadn't spoken till now, stepped forward. "Could we discuss about this downstairs? I think Isolde would prefer some privacy with her son." He didn't even wait for answer before he spun around and left, assuming the thumping sounds of boots would soon trail behind him.

For a moment Iselda had forgotten that Connor got no clue of what was happening. There was no need to confuse him more, so she quickly went after the bann. Jowan rubbed his fingers together and got chills when Irving told him that two templars from the Circle came with him. His only hope was that they had no personal grudges against him which would make them cut him down despite the arlessa's word.

It didn't take long for the First Enchanter's escorts to react when they met Jowan.

"That's...! It's him! The blood mage who escaped!" one of them shouted and drew his sword.

Irving's hand stopped Jowan, who was about to nervously say something. "Lady Isolde has demanded his life to be spared until the Arl himself can sentence him."

"What? She can't do that! The Order must handle-"

"He _lives_ until the Arl says otherwise", the old mage frowned, glaring like a commander of an army.

The templar sought advice from the fellow knight, who could only lift his shoulders in wonder, wishing that he wasn't going to be the one to decide. He sighed and sheathed his blade, giving way to the Warden and her party. Laryll's pleased grin made him roll his eyes and grump to himself.

"Is there going to be a problem?" Teagan asked.

"Nothing we can't deal with", Irving assured. "I'll stay here with the templars in case the Arl's condition changes, so they can keep an eye on Jowan. That should suffice."

"You speak like you already know what I'm about to request", the bann snorted.

"Word travels fast, my lord. Even to such places as the Circle."

The puzzled looks on Laryll's and Zevran's faces told Iselda that they didn't know about the quest they had heard about in Lothering. When she thought about that, it occurred to her how little she knew about the elves in the end. Two Antivans of which one had got a new home in Denerim and the other had become an assassin.

"This is about the Urn, isn't it?" the Warden guessed, her gaze shifting to Laryll. "Long story short, the knights of Redcliffe have been searching for an artifact called the Urn of Sacred Ashes, which is said to contain Andraste's remains. People believe those ashes can cure any kind of disease."

"We met one of the knights at Lothering before it was burned to the ground", Alistair continued and showed a journal with brown leather covers. "He gave us his friend's notebook. It provided us a lead, but we wished to check the Redcliffe Village first. Now I'm kinda glad we did."

Teagan seemed much more relieved after hearing some good news. "The Urn is our best...our _only_ option. I believe it exists and that it can help Eamon."

"A scholar named Brother Genitivi thought so too, according to this journal", Alistair leafed through the pages and stopped after a while. "Right here, this entry suggests that Genitivi was close to finding the Urn."

Glancing at the writing, Teagan rubbed his chin and turned to Iselda. "So what's the plan?"

"We go to Denerim, as it says he lives there", the warrior stated.

A lump rose into Laryll's throat and she gave quick scratch on her itching nose. Of course she knew that she couldn't avoid the city forever. Her home was still there, people she had come to care about. But had the guards stopped looking for her? She had left so that the truth wouldn't be revealed. Soris was reckless and too protective, he wouldn't hesitate to turn himself in if his cousin was arrested for his actions.

_Get a grip_, the redhead bit her teeth together. There was no crime. Vaughan deserved to die, noble or not. The guards had no right to punish her or Soris for doing everyone a favor. Despite the facts, the elves of the alienage would never be treated well. _Shems_ would always side themselves with those who had round ears and stand against her kin if some pompous commander ordered them to fight for the good of humanity.

"Laryll?" Zevran whispered once he noticed her trembling fist.

The elf realized how she was about to fill her mind with dark thoughts. The pain had tried to secretly creep along her spine to again pull her on the ground from the clouds. All the beauty and love she had witnessed since escaping from Denerim would have been erased if not for the Antivan beside her. If she hadn't found him, the scars on her body would certainly had reminded her of incidents like Vaughan more than once, refusing her any kind of happiness.

_Stop being so angsty_, Zevran had said to her thirteen years ago, when she had cried because she didn't want to go with Cyrion. _I'm not angsty_, Laryll had mumbled back.

She grinned for a moment, which kinda surprised the assassin. Then her eyes met Iselda's, who waved her hand at her, as in making a 'not now' sign.

"We should go, there's no time to waste", the Warden said. As she passed the rogue, she laid her hand on the elf's shoulder and gently pulled her a bit closer. "At the camp", her voice was low and her message so short that no-one really paid any particular attention to what she did.

Except Laryll. A discussion about Denerim was inevitable. It would be foolish to hide the facts longer than necessary. Such secrets could endanger the whole group and explaining would be too late if their first encounter at the city was to be an argument with the city guard.

Teagan nodded. "I hope it's not too much trouble for you to stay here", he politely bowed his head to Irving.

"Not at all, my lord", the First Enchanter smiled, ignoring the templars who snorted simultaneously, clearly not agreeing with him.

One of them approached Jowan, who flinched and took a few steps back, just enough so that he couldn't smell his breath. "Try anything and I'll ensure you'll have a slow, painful death", the knight snarled while he tied the mage's hands, leering at the bann.

"I'll take you to the cells, he should stay there until the Wardens get back", Teagan proposed.

"Yes, he _should_."

"We all know our roles, so let's get to it. May the Maker watch over you, my friends", the bann looked at the party before leaving the room.

"Iselda", the female Warden smirked. "It's not fair to consider us as friends, if only we address you by your first name."

Teagan laughed a little. "As you wish...Iselda."

0-0-0-0-0

It had been a long time since Laryll had ridden a horse. Isolde had insisted on presenting some horses to them as a token of her gratitude. With four of them, Wynne had traveled with the lightest member, which of course had been Laryll. It went without saying that Dog was more than happy to run freely beside its master. Traveling was now easier and faster and they had reached the inn near Lake Calenhad in no time. Because the size of the party was already quite big, the horses were a welcome sight to Leliana who was first to greet her companions.

Denerim was far away, so Iselda suggested that she would brief everyone about the situation as they moved. The new mounts carried most of the equipment and the group would take turns riding. Luckily Sten was almost as tall as a horse and definitely stronger as well. It would hurt his qunari pride to be helped by a weaker being, so he silently walked, stating that he would get enough rest at nights, when they didn't proceed.

The clear sky and the shining sun made traveling even more pleasant. The journey took days, but at least there wasn't a constant threat of blood mages or demons popping out of nowhere. It was always possible, but this time Iselda and those who had been with her at the Circle didn't finger their weapons in fear of a nasty surprise from Uldred or monsters like Sloth.

Before they arrived at an open area about sixty miles away from the city, the Warden had been able to summarize what had happened. No matter how unbelievable her horror story was, it was all true and her friends knew it.

"I feel bad not accompanying you to the Tower", Leliana sighed as she finished setting up her tent. "You should have come back before going in without extra help."

"I thought about it, but I ditched the idea", Iselda answered, dumping an armful of firewood on the ground. "It would have only caused more people getting trapped inside. If the templars had decided to purge the whole place or if we hadn't been able to get out of the Fade, then you would have needed to contact the other Wardens to-"

"Don't speak like that, by the Maker", the bard shivered, but soon her lips curved up. "I'm glad it's over. And I'm happy that the Arl's son was saved. It proves the Blight can't block all the light from our lives, that there's still hope for all of us."

Iselda smiled and scratched her loose hair. "It would be nice if your beautiful words were able to shoo the Archdemon away, too. Ever thought of giving it a try, once we meet the big bad guy?"

"If our army fails, then I promise such strategy will be my last resort", Leliana giggled.

Winking at the Orlesian, Iselda left her to organize her stuff in piece. She planned to go gather more wood when she saw Laryll talking to Wynne, a concerned look on her pale face.

The only word she could hear distinctly was 'thanks' which Laryll said before turning around. As soon as she gazed at Iselda, she smiled, acting like nothing was wrong.

The Warden knew better. "Spit it out", she ordered, halting the elf who was going to just walk past her. "You're not going anywhere until I hear what's making you so spooked."

_None of your business_, Laryll wanted to reply, but she wasn't speaking to a _shem_. To her, Iselda wasn't round-ear, or human or even a Warden. She was a dear friend, who deserved to know if something bothered her.

"Which do you want first? Denerim or Sloth?" she held her breath after asking and took a glimpse of Wynne.

Squinting her eyes, Iselda gestured the rogue to follow her to the woods. Obviously the redhead hadn't told anyone else yet. Even though the warrior was prepared to force her to tell a certain Antivan later, right now she would keep her mouth shut and listen. When Alistair noticed them leaving the camp, she gave a quick grin, assuring that they would be fine.

"Does it not annoy you that she'd rather spend private time with our Warden than with you?" Morrigan's chirping voice came behind Zevran.

The assassin rubbed his dagger with a cloth and uttered a laughter. "Laryll knows I'm here, ready to listen whenever she wishes, dear Morrigan. But the lovely noble lady there", he pointed at the receding women with his blade, "she's not going to wait, oh no. Trust me, I know what happens if you make her do so."

"So you're going to sit like a good boy and assume she'll open her heart to you eventually? Is this some kind of tradition among the Crows or just you?" the mage sounded irritated.

Zevran took a good look of the gleaming steel, and smirked in approval. "If she starts to spend the nights with her instead of me, _then_ I'll get worried."

Groaning and desperately trying to erase the images from her head, Morrigan scurried away, deeply regretting of saying anything.

The quiet of a small forest was a heaven compared to the quiet in the rooms of the Circle. Laryll had been certain that the ominous air which had smelled like blood would have suffocated everyone who breathed it for too long. That whiff had filled her nostrils so badly she could almost taste it even after getting out of the Tower. When she had eaten her first proper meal after those horrors at their camp, she had carefully examined its every scent, treating her poor nose.

It hadn't rained in days, but Laryll didn't require it in order to get refreshed in the nature. She made a little dancing moves on top of leaves and grass, snapping small dry twigs on purpose. All nearby trees got a hug from her and she even tested could her dagger still cut simple wood. Her mother's blades. She ought to handle them better if they were to be stained by slicing darkspawn flesh. She could hear Zevran lecturing her in her mind.

_Keep your weapon spotless, even if you're not using it_. His very first advice when she had received a dagger from him.

"If you're not too busy, could you help me instead?" Iselda interrupted and glared at Laryll, collecting every piece of wood she thought would burn nicely.

"Sorry", the elf lowered her head and put her weapon away, focusing on the current task.

Iselda remained speechless for a while, but realized her comrade was not going to begin the conversation. "You don't want to go to Denerim?"

Wincing, Laryll attempted to conceal her nervousness. "Not really", she muttered, her hand shuffling through some sticks next to an oak trunk.

"I thought your home was there."

"The city guard...is likely looking for me."

The Warden paused, her eyes wide.

The rogue just stared directly at Iselda. "I was, well, involved in the death of a human noble. I'm not the one who killed him, I was...a victim. But I took the blame, for my cousin. If I go back, he won't stand aside and watch me being punished for what he did. He won't."

Iselda let out a sigh, unsure of what to respond. Elves had never been treated as kindly as she would have wanted, but if the elves lived separated from humans in Denerim, then their situation was even worse. She believed Laryll wouldn't have killed someone without a reason, which angered her, made her ashamed to be a human.

"You don't have to come with us", she said. "We only have to go meet Genitivi and get the information of the Urn. You can wait with the others at the camp."

The redhead shook her head. "On the other hand, I can't run forever. I have to enter the city sooner or later."

"Now that's just stupid, there's no need for you to take such risk, not yet."

"Then when? What if this would be my last chance seeing my home? My family?"

Blinking a couple of times, Iselda stroked the aching muscles on her neck. The elf's distress was quite understandable. The Blight would affect everyone in Ferelden and Denerim was not going to be an exception, high walls or no. No-one could predict the darkspawn horde's next movements. Laryll had figured that out and feared for her family's safety.

She hadn't thought about that, maybe because she had no family to worry about. The chances of Fergus still being alive were slim. She knew that and had tried to become accustomed to the most plausible truth. The only one who was closer to her than her brother was Alistair and she didn't have to be concerned about him. They had fought side-by-side since they entered the Wilds in order to collect darkspawn blood for the Joining. The Cousland inside her was still warning about her feelings, but those alarms could not be heard over her stubbornness.

Right now, Laryll seemed more stubborn than Iselda, which was not an easy thing to achieve.

"What do you want to do?" the Warden's gaze was stern. "It is your decision. I'd appreciate it if you came with me, even if I'd be a little bit uneasy."

A thin stick was being skillfully twirled in Laryll's fingers. She wished to go and she wished to stay away. However, one sign of her body told her to follow Iselda through the city gates.

Her index was not twitching.

Iselda saw Laryll's smirk and mimicked her face. "Okay then", she glanced at the wood they had picked up and was happy with it. "I promise you then, the guards won't be a problem. I'll use every bit of authority I have to keep them away from you. Hell I'll make Alistair to use his position as the prince if needed. And if that doesn't do the trick, then Dog can always chew their legs off for all I care."

"I'll...remember that, thanks", the redhead chuckled.

"Now, is the talk about Sloth going to be as gloomy as this was? If so, then I'd rather get some sleep before hearing it."

"Actually, it's not bad, just...weird", Laryll didn't know how to describe what Wynne had told her earlier.

"Huh?"

"At the Castle, she mentioned that Sloth may have stalked me, that he was interested in me. I asked her how he could have found me and she said that someone in my family, a mage, could have been possessed or otherwise connected to Sloth."

Iselda slowed her steps. "And?"

"I'm an orphan. I'm positive Zevran's mother, who took care of me in Antiva, wasn't a mage. Neither were my parents from Denerim. The only one with magic in the alienage was our keeper and templars regularly checked him and his house in case of demons. And Sloth said something about a woman who had stood on his way."

It was quite clear where this was going, but the Warden waited in case Laryll wanted to say it herself. The elf didn't look scared, just shocked and confused. Having a new family was often a blessing for orphans, but people like her still lacked one thing: knowledge of their origins. Whatever had happened, her kind desired for closure in that topic.

"That leaves your biological parents, doesn't it?" Iselda said in a low voice.

Taking a sharp breath, Laryll nodded slightly. "I don't know anything about them. Before Cyrion adopted me, I was told that no-one hadn't been able to find my real mother and father. Honestly, if Sloth was involved, then I can understand why they didn't take me with them, to wherever they went."

In the end, Laryll's parents may have tried to do the right thing and lure Sloth to follow them. The worst case scenario was that he had killed them and gone after Laryll. Iselda hated herself for thinking like that and was not going to reveal her thoughts aloud.

She patted the elf's back and grinned. "Maybe you can ask your parents once you'll meet."

"You really think I would find them, after all these years?" the rogue smiled, not getting her hopes up.

"At least one of them is bound to be a badass mage, so why not? Elves are quite tough I hear, with their ridiculous lifespan and all."

Laughing made Laryll feel a lot better and she was glad she had spoken to Iselda first. She had always believed that her real parents were alive somewhere. Sloth was dead, perhaps they knew about that too. Perhaps it had been her mother, who had protected her.

_That woman is not here this time._

"Yeah", Laryll answered and was careful not to drop the pieces of wood in her arms.

0-0-0-0-0

The darkness came and the wind had calmed down, not flickering the flames of the campfire too violently. It had taken a lot for Laryll to convince Sten that she could be the first to stay on watch. Fortunately there had been no need to prove her strength to the qunari, as he had let the elf guard the camp as a test.

"So, keeping your eyes open for two hours is a test for me, huh", the redhead mumbled and warmed her curled fingers.

"Still mad at Sten, _mi rub__í_?" crooned a voice behind her.

Swiftly turning around, Laryll snorted when she saw Zevran. "You should be sleeping, not here teasing me."

"And miss a beautiful night like this?" the assassin smirked and sat on a blanket, beside the elf. "Show me your hands, palms up."

"Why?"

Zevran only made a gesture of what he wanted her to do. Wondering didn't change the look on his face, so Laryll obeyed.

"Tsk tsk, I knew it", Zevran's head moved from left to right. Gently, he continued to touch with his thumb and noticed how it made her wince a little. "You've been squeezing the reins like your life had depended on it. _Maldici__ó__n_, just look at this damage."

When she realized how correct the Antivan was, Laryll blushed and chewed her lower lip. There were a few blisters all over her palms and red abrasions. Nothing too serious, but it wasn't pretty.

She attempted to explain, but Zevran's index sealed her lips. "Stay still, I've got this."

The assassin grabbed a small leather pouch from his pocket and loosened the string that kept it shut. There was some yellow stuff inside and with two fingers, the assassin took a bit of it.

"Might sting a little", he warned and spread the salve on Laryll's palms.

"Ow! Ow! _A little_?!" she complained, but tried not to pull her hands back.

The medicine began to work immediately. It cooled her skin and touching didn't hurt anymore. In fact, the massage felt pleasant and relaxing. What a shame a bloody cut couldn't be cured by doing the same treatment. She would gladly get injured if this was what came next.

"What is this stuff?" she managed to ask while enjoying.

"A gift from Antiva, my dear", Zevran finished by putting some bandage on Laryll's hands. "You want to go with the Warden, don't you?" he added, meeting the purple eyes.

"I have to."

"Then I'll come with you, do not doubt that." He caressed the rogue's cheek and played with her hair. "Let's just be cautious, okay?"

The corners of Laryll's mouth rose and she leaned against Zevran, wrapping her arms around him and sighing. Her heart thumped in joy when the assassin pulled her closer and brushed her head. She felt that telling about Denerim and Wynne's suspicions to Iselda had been mandatory. If she hadn't, it would have gnawed her mind.

But when she was going to tell Zevran, it wasn't because she was obliged to do so. She would tell because she loved him and wished to share all her thoughts with him. Walking through a hell was like tiptoeing in a paradise when she was with Zevran. Nelaros, Thiana, the alienage... So many stories which made her sad, but if it was him listening to them, Laryll wouldn't be afraid.

People would always suffer and it wouldn't help them if she restrained herself from living. Would the Maker be so evil that he would tear her apart if she loved?

Be as it may, Laryll would take her chances. _I'm not angsty_.

To lie down, she shifted and placed her head on the Antivan's lap, staring into the flames. "Don't tell Sten, but can I shut my eyes for a moment?"

"For a moment, sure", the assassin kissed the redhead's bandaged palm and put it down, not letting go however. "But then I'll wake you up before you'll catch a flu. You too must take care of yourself, _mi amora_."

Although Laryll heard him the first time, she sensed such tingles and warmth that she had to ask: "Could you repeat that, please?"

Zevran smiled and moved some hair covering the elf's ear. "Sleep well, _mi amora_."

* * *

**Notes: _m__aldici__ó__n = damn_**

**_mi amora = my love_**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Maaan, I don't want to even talk about school. Lots of work, not enough time.**

**I would so much like to write a Mass Effect story, that would have even more action, romance being just a small part. But I'm struggling even with writing both this and my own novel at the same time. I started this mainly because I wanted to write romance for the first time in my life and fan fiction is an easy way of doing it. Would really help to have experience of that too if I'm ever going to publish anything, right?**

**The notes at the end of the chapter are quite important, especially for those who like 'a certain kind of scenes'. What, am I spoiling something here? Nonono, never.**

**Enjoy!**

Wiggling her toes, Laryll felt the morning breeze through the door of the tent she has slept in. For the first time it seemed like she hadn't overslept for there were no loud noises of packing coming outside. The only sound her ears picked up was silent whistling, which she could hear too clearly.

"Morning, my dear", Zevran's song stopped when he noticed the redhead blinking her eyes, staring at him sitting on top of his bedroll and rolling the bandage he had used to dress Laryll's hands. "What's that look for, _mi bella_? I didn't have heart to wake you up and you would have frozen sleeping by yourself."

The rogue sighed against her palms. "The others seem to have no problem sleeping alone", she muttered.

"Well I think Morrigan's constant bad mood keeps her warm. Sten survived weeks without food, so having no-one else sharing anything that is his, including his blanket, must be a paradise for him. As for lovely Leliana... Hm, I don't actually have any idea how she manages."

"You left the Wardens out", Laryll pointed out, stretching her limbs and putting on her boots.

The expression on the assassin's face was priceless. "Has my favorite elf become blind of all things?"

His mouth was quickly snapped shut when the rogue glared him like a person who just had been mocked, although the irritation soon changed into confusion and surprise.

"I'll leave that for you to figure out yourself", Zevran teased and leaned forward, feeling Laryll's breath against his skin. "Want to know how why it's much more comfortable for you to sleep in my tent than alone in yours?"

Laryll grinned and let the Antivan claim her chilly lips. The blood in her body flowed fast, reddening her cheeks and lips instantly. Her pulse increased in a pleasant way and she threw her arms around Zevran's neck. Doing something like this, she had been so certain that it would be more embarrassing to her. That she wouldn't be ready and wouldn't wish to rush.

Quiet as a mouse, she wanted Zevran to decide the speed, the level of hunger. His left hand was lost in Laryll's hair while the right's fingers stroked her back under the shirt, tickling and making it hard to stay still, not letting out a sound. Every morning should begin in this way. With such passion and warmth she would never even think about sleeping if this was the alternative. She touched the blond hair and it felt like silk, causing her to release a chuckle between the kisses.

"Ah!" the rogue suddenly cried out when she was pushed on her back, now lying on her bedroll and staring into the Antivan's gleaming eyes, her fingers crossed with his.

Zevran smirked, looking far too amused. "As much as I'd love to continue, I feel a necessity of reminding you of where we are, my dear."

Laryll calmed her breathing and took a moment to again gather her thoughts. Too concentrated on wanting to be caressed by Zevran, she had totally forgotten the world around her. When the fact hit her, she blushed and laughed uneasily.

"You sure you still wish for more? You'll never know, maybe they won't misunderstand that loud yelp just now-"

"Yes yes, I get the hint", Laryll squeezed her lids shut and commanded the elf to move, agreeing that she wouldn't stop glancing at the entrance after making such a noise.

Zevran's smile was contagious and the redhead's lips arched in the same way as his. She believed he had taken a rain check only for her, so she wouldn't get too awkward. Truth to be told, it was hard to imagine him hesitating in any kind of matter. Zevran's cheerful trait was his strength, as well as putting everyone before him. He was definitely not known for being shy.

There were a lot of gruesome stories about the Antivan Crows. If the trials he needed to undergo in order to become one hadn't changed his inner self, then Laryll couldn't think of many other methods which could shock him. Rinna's death may have been the last thing which had nearly crushed him, but he had recovered even from that better than Laryll from pettier things compared to it. She would keep protecting the assassin's heart from any further damage, just like he shielded her from harm. From Iselda's never-ending stream of questions in this case.

No matter how tempting is was, she restrained herself from stealing more wet kisses and rose up, seeking for her armor. "Perhaps I should be more dressed before stepping out."

"If that makes you feel safer, _mi rub__í_", Zevran crooned, winking at the elf who was still strapping the belts of her breast piece when she left.

_Ah, how eager can one be_, the Antivan crossed his arms behind his head and collapsed on Laryll's blanket. Denerim wasn't the best place to go considering how she must feel about it, but Zevran would give anything in exchange for a room from an inn with a bathtub and proper bed. For an opportunity to spend the night with his love, surrounded by solid walls and without couple of mages or Wardens ten meters away.

There was no point in becoming the miserable man he remembered being in the Fade, in his dream. He had stared at Rinna's grave for hours on the day of her burial, asking her what should he do, where should he go.

A red chirping bird had landed on the stone where he had carved her name, nodding its head and ruffling its feathers, ready to resume singing despite the rain and rumbling of thunder.

A single bird had provided him the path which to follow.

0-0-0-0-0

It was so strange, at least Laryll thought so. The whole party had entered the city. The gatekeepers hadn't halted them, even when their group was so numerous. Not even the two obvious mages seemed to attract the guards' attention to the level they would do something about it. They passed many while trying to locate Genitivi's house, but none of them gave a suspecting glare. In fact, it looked more like everyone was avoiding them, quickly giving them way and shifting to carry on gossiping elsewhere.

She hadn't been outside the alienage that much during her time in Denerim, but Laryll was quite certain his father had always warned her how tight the security was in the city. Guards patrolled in every region, she had witnessed this when wandering in the streets with Soris and Shianni.

A fire rekindled inside her. Maybe the ruckus after Vaughan's death had eased and the investigation had been aborted. There was still a chance she could make 'a full return' when the Blight was over.

"Are your muscles not in pain, flexing your shoulders like that?" Iselda sneered at Laryll.

Since exiting Zevran's tent, the Warden had been glancing at the rogue nonstop, swiftly turning her gaze whenever the elf had noticed it. "It's too weird", Laryll whispered. "The guards treat us like air. They had a description of me, yet I'm being ignored."

"Disappointed?" Iselda laughed a little, receiving an angry leer for her joke. "Think about it: a special, hornless qunari with a sword as big as he is accompanied by two mages. Who on earth would be stupid enough to confront us?"

_Hornless?_ Laryll pondered. She doubted a conversation with Sten would lead to any good information, so she would ask Iselda later. Before meeting Sten, she had only read about his people and the illustrations of books had given her a bit wrong image of their appearance.

"Just relax, we'll be fine", the Warden's lips were conquered by a smug smile.

"How am I supposed to do that?" Laryll wasn't sure should she drop her guard.

"Hmm...", Iselda tapped her chin with her finger, grinning even more as she got an idea.

Her voice called for Alistair who quickly appeared to her side. Totally unaware of the warrior's intentions, he couldn't say the shortest word before Iselda's hand brushed his face and his mouth was pressed against hers. Eyes wide, Laryll silently gasped in surprise and took a glimpse of Zevran. The assassin had the 'told you, didn't I' kind of look, with a lot of smirking added to it.

The female Warden retreated and lightly stroked Alistair's nose, not caring about his rather stunned reaction. "Like that?" she turned to the redhead, very happy of how her plan had made her friend miss everything else happening around her.

"Really", the former templar sighed, trying to hide his smiling, "as good as that felt, I'd prefer to be given heads-up if I'm to play a part in one of these kind of schemes of yours."

"What scheme, dear?" Iselda took a role of an innocent girl and her long, black eyelashes fluttered.

"I'm going to strangle someone if I'm forced to watch these moments of pointless amount of touching too often from now on", Morrigan snarled, frowning in disgust.

"Nah, this was just necessary", the Warden shook her hand once. "Any more detailed stuff needs a tent. Or a room. Maker how I crave for a room with curtains and carpets and all."

"Okay, okay, let's get going, shall we?" Alistair hurried Iselda by patting her back when Morrigan's fingernails seemed to grow and become beastly, nearly as they would be in her wolf form. He knew the mage wasn't kidding.

The party got to the market, a spectacle Laryll hadn't seen in Denerim before. The district was known for its many shops and taverns, but the elves rarely went there. She gazed at the wooden gate which blocked the way to the alienage. Not surprising, the gate was closed for different reasons every now and then. She only wondered who the humans were accusing of the most senseless things this time. That was often why the guards shut the area, wanting to prevent the 'criminal' from escaping.

Iselda insisted on buying some new gear, for all of them. The journey was becoming more dangerous each day and their current armor could easily be pierced by stronger enemies, blades shattered from too many strikes. A local smith had almost jumped out of his pants when the Warden had told him about dragon scales she had and swore he would be able to forge a powerful armor from them, especially when the Warden handed extra sovereigns for the work. Everyone agreed that she should wear it once finished. Quite humbly, she accepted that, but spent quite a sum for her friends too. One of the advantages of being a noble from the Cousland family was the fact that money would never be an issue. Her home may have burned to the ground, but when she glanced at Alistair, a thought of a new home crossed her mind.

She got woken up from her dreams when they reached the Gnawed Noble Tavern, the building which was just opposite Genitivi's home according to the journal they had. Scanning around, she saw an old house a couple of steps away from her. "Has to be that one", she said to the others and approached the building.

Laryll couldn't pinpoint specifically where any of the humans in Denerim lived, so the door they knocked was as good guess as any. Elves wouldn't hesitate providing directions if asked, she wasn't so sure about the rest of the citizens.

Seconds passed, but no-one opened. Shrugging, Iselda tried the handle and it wasn't locked. Before Alistair could protest, she hushed him and peeked inside.

"No need for all of us to go", she stated. "Just wait here, I'll be back soon."

"You're going by yourself?" Alistair lifted his brow, clearly against the plan.

"What, you think a scholar will cut my throat? Don't worry, you silly man."

While Alistair struggled to figure out how to counter the Warden's words, Iselda smirked and fully opened the door, commanding whining Dog to sit and wait. It let out a small click when shut again and her steps could be heard as she walked further.

"She'll be fine", Laryll assured Alistair, smiling to him.

"Yeah, she's right", the Warden laughed. "Her getting attacked by Genitivi doesn't really sound likely."

"If he does, she can kill him", Sten said.

"But he's the only one who knows where the Ashes might be, isn't he?" the rogue replied.

"Then we'll find another way", the qunari declared.

"So it's just that easy, huh?"

"Yes."

A sigh and groan were the signs of Laryll's surrender. She had a hard time imagining herself talking to other qunaris if they all were this uncommunicative. Zevran wasn't helping, as he was barely able to swallow his chuckles.

Morrigan paced restlessly, wishing to get away from the crowd. Hating strangers was not the main reason for that, but the black book in her shoulder bag. It was her mother's, Flemeth's, grimoire which Iselda had found in the Circle Tower. The owner's name on the first page had caught the Warden's eye and she had given it to Morrigan, who had been quite pleased. Of course the mage had refused to tell how the Circle had got a hold of the tome. Reading it might reveal some secrets about Flemeth's powers, which is why Morrigan was in hurry to study the book.

Just when Laryll was about to guarantee the mage that Iselda would return soon, a loud bang came from inside Genitivi's house, followed by shouts and clattering of furniture being tossed around.

"Iselda!" Alistair cried out and didn't bother to draw his sword before pushing the door.

Laryll immediately went after, her daggers bared and Dog barking while it dashed in with her. Leliana saw the concerned looks on the bystanders' faces and gestured at Zevran and Sten to go, promising to take care of calming the people down.

After the assassin had stormed inside, he noticed a shelf which had been broken near the entrance, probably because of a Warden having been sent flying against it, causing the first noise. But Iselda didn't seem injured. In fact, it was her sword that was covered in red and the blood on the floor was slowly bleeding from a man at her feet.

Digging a cloth from her pouch, she started to clean the blade. "What a mess", the warrior bemoaned and met Alistair's speechless gaze. "Genitivi's not here and that definitely was not his assistant, as he claimed to be."

"Are you alright?" was the male Warden's primal question.

Iselda grinned and moved teasingly close to him. "Yes I am, sweetie."

She felt victorious when seeing Alistair's blushing as a response, giggling and turning away in order not to make her group uncomfortable. Laryll sighed from relief and followed Iselda to another room, putting her weapons in their scabbards. Sten searched the kitchen and even Alistair finally managed to shift his legs, with a little aid from the Antivan who poked him with his elbow, sneering as he scurried to Laryll.

"Well that's not pretty", Iselda shook her head and pointed at a corpse in the bedroom.

Shuddering, the rogue squeezed her nose, trying not to smell the awful odour of death. The dead human had been tortured badly. Several of his fingers were missing, horrible cuts were so deep you could see the bones under the flesh. Written on the victim's face was his last moments of the nightmare he had gone through. Zevran crouched and identified traces of acid on the man's skin, thinking that not even the Crows would go to such lengths to receive information. If they did, then his decision to leave them was the right one.

"It's the real assistant, isn't it?" he said and rose up.

Iselda nodded. "The imposter did say that Genitivi went to a village called Haven, believing that the Urn is there."

"It is", Sten interrupted and showed some documents he had found.

The papers explained in detail how the scholar had tracked the artifact to Haven and was preparing a trip there. The date indicated he had left almost a month ago, even though the writing said he should be back in a week or two.

Furrowing wasn't going to help, so Iselda straightened herself and headed to the door. "Let's stay at an inn for the night. Tomorrow, we'll get some more horses and stuff we require before going to Haven." She turned to Laryll. "You've got time to visit your family if you want."

The elf's eyes saddened which made her avert her gaze. A Warden might be able to get into the alienage, closed gate or not. It was a request she wished to ask of Iselda. Honestly though, she was satisfied as she was now. Meeting Cyrion and everyone would make leaving them again more painful than it was the first time. She would rather meet them when the world was safer and stopping the Blight was the only way.

That's what she kept telling herself anyhow.

Laryll scratched her nose. "There will be a better time, don't you think? The Arl's life depends on us."

Both Iselda and Zevran were surprised, the Warden more so. She had nothing against people thinking about their loved ones first before urgent matters which could have serious consequences. She had understood when her friend had felt the need to come to Denerim, despite her past. What had changed her mind?

"Your call", she smiled and hummed a short tune while going outside.

0-0-0-0-0

A qunari warrior didn't care how comfy his bed was, as long as you could sleep on it for couple of hours. Sten was no exception, having no different opinion when the party was going to have a night somewhere else than the camp. The rest though were more than ready to stretch their aching limbs on clean, soft sheets and bathe in hot water. Even Wynne, who rarely complained about anything, admitted that camping was slowly making her old bones beg for the bed she had in the Circle.

The tavern near Genitivi's home was good and not too full of people. Most of the noise had been caused by a gang of mercenaries. Their behavior quickly filled Iselda's gauge of patience and she chased them out, sicking Dog on the bastards to make her message clear enough. Although the customers cheered and became more lively, none dared to cause trouble after witnessing the fate of a band of strong mercenaries.

The rooms were quite spacious, it was still an inn for nobles mostly. When Laryll had entered hers, an unfamiliar but nice scent floated in the air. Her first discovery was a tub behind a cream colored screen in an area isolated from the bedroom. Red and beige fabrics were everywhere, from the blankets to paintings on the walls. Taking a glimpse of everything, she noticed a fireplace. She took off her armor and daggers, feeling free and flexible with no belts strapped on her body. It didn't take long for her to revive it and the flames were so beautiful to look upon that she grabbed a warm blanket to cover herself with and sat on a very thick carpet made of pelts and fur, watching the display in awe.

No guard had paid attention to her today. The market district wasn't that far from Vaughan's former estate and in Denerim, every human was aware if an elf had committed a crime. No way some of the guards wouldn't be able to recognize her. Her red hair was a very distinctive feature after all. Maybe Sten had really scared the humans, making the humans rather vanish quickly than bother a party with a qunari.

Or maybe Soris had been arrested, found guilty and sentenced to die, ending the case.

Hugging her legs, Laryll tried to focus on the fire and curled her toes. Her cousin wouldn't do that. Her sacrifice to abandon the city would have been in vain if Soris had told the truth. It was possible that someone else had been caught for the murder, which would be even worse.

_This was a mistake_, she thought and couldn't wait till the next day, to get as far away from Denerim as possible.

"All these luxuries and you are sitting on the floor, staring something you've seen every evening before going to sleep?" Zevran's laughing voice came from the door.

Laryll glanced at him, smiled slightly and continued to watch the performance in the fireplace.

The assassin was not fooled by such a fake smile. He put his gear beside Laryll's and didn't ask for a permission to seat himself on the fur carpet. Leaning back and supporting his weight with his arms, he once again admired the rogue's hair. Different shades of crimson and that of a sunset, shining and getting more contrast against the darkness. Her pose was the same as when she was little, whenever she had various things tangling her mind.

Laryll had told about Sloth before they entered the city, about how Wynne's theory of the demon's interest in her involved her biological parents. People rarely remembered stuff they had done as young children, but Zevran could recall how he had discovered Laryll, alone in a ruined building, crying. His mother had looked for someone who might have known the girl, without success. But clearly that wasn't what occupied her mind currently. Her skin was usually quite pale and she would nervously chew her lower lip if her concerns were connected to those she considered dear, just like now.

Zevran wanted to take her out of this rotten place, lead her all the way to a town where she could have a normal life. Where they could live together with no demon or darkspawn threatening them.

"I shouldn't have come", Laryll finally sighed, wishing to break the silence first. "I thought I was ready, that I could go and show myself to Cyrion and everybody."

"What's stopping you?" the assassin asked. "I'm sure they would like to know you're alive and well, fighting with the Wardens to save Ferelden. Has quite a nice ring to it, no?"

Chuckling a little, the girl lowered her eyes. "Yeah, Cyrion would explode from pride." She rested her head on the Antivan's shoulder, breathing as calmly as she could right now. "The bann, what he did... Those memories do not hurt anymore like they used to, which I thought remarked a new beginning, but..."

"We don't have to stay here if it makes you think of-"

"No, it's not that. That _shem_ isn't what saddens me. It's the situation where I'm so close to those important to me, yet I can't meet them. I couldn't do it because they were so far, here in Denerim while I fought against abominations in the Circle and I can't do it now."

There was no need for Zevran to ask why. He knew. Even he had experienced it. All the orders he had to follow, the people he had to kill, the innocents he had to scar for life. Even if it is just a bit, those things changed him. It even had made him reconsider leaving Antiva in search for Laryll. Countless nights he had imagined how she would react to him being a Crow. Above anything else however, he had been afraid to meet her after realizing his feelings for her.

"I'm a coward", Laryll spat.

In Zevran's mind, the redhead had no right to call herself that.

Gently, he caught Laryll's hand, making her lift her head and look at him in wonder. She wasn't about to cry. The glint in her eyes occurred from something else. The best answer the Antivan could come up with was shame. The elf before him who had survived a harsh life with stalking demons, blood mages, a shithead bann and Maker knows when the list ends. The elf who had waded through all that called herself a coward.

He cupped her cheek, saying nothing. It was the kiss that did the talking. The lips he touched tasted sweet and were moist, moving slowly and yielding to the pace he set. The hand in his clenched every time the kisses demanded all of the space in Laryll's mouth. Shivers of pleasure made their skins tingle when the tips of their tongues met, retreating and again seeking for each other.

There was a room with locked door, only the two of them inside, with no-one planning to visit any time soon. Privacy, just like Zevran had wished for. His goddess, next to the heat and light of the fireplace's flames. Stars glimmering in the cloudless sky, the crescent moon peeping through the window.

Beautiful and special night.

As carefully as launching a tiny boat made of bark into the water, he laid Laryll down, his fingers sliding into her hair and the rogue's arms locking around him. Her chest heaved and Zevran loved how she desperately tried not to release too loud noises, acting innocent whenever a touch on her body caused groans. The assassin knew which spot to kiss on the elf's neck to make her rumple his shirt, her nails almost piercing through it.

A crackle of burning wood jerked Laryll's eyes open and she was looking directly into Zevran's. The smile on his face was so different from his daily smirk. His pupils got a hint of orange due to the light of the fire and the Dalish tattoos were like shadows. While kissing him, she swept her index along them, moving to the braid above his ear.

Zevran stopped her hand by pressing it with his own against his cheek. "Would you like me to remove all of your worries, _mi amora_?"

Laryll blushed hard, but the emotions spinning inside her felt delightful. "That's a fancy way to put...it", she grinned.

"What can I say? I'm a gentleman after all", the Antivan smiled back, slowly nestling up to the elf, halting precisely before their noses brushed.

How visible her flushing was Laryll had no idea, but she was in no hurry to hide her joy. Many times she had talked about Zevran to Shianni, always getting annoyed when she had found new ways to use him to make the redhead embarrassed. At first it was just a childhood crush and she hadn't seen anything weird in liking someone so much at such young age, maybe because of the environment she grew up in before being adopted. As she got older, the girly love turned into a real thing that caused her heart pound louder than ever. Countless times she had told Shianni to shut up when the elf had poked her, implying that Laryll should 'do it' at least once. Getting married only incited Shianni to repeat those words more often.

The elf didn't understand. No-one had understood why Laryll had got mad at those who suggested her to 'do it' or those who wanted to 'do it' with her. They couldn't have known how deeply she cared for her childhood friend.

They couldn't have known how deeply she had desired to be in this situation. Only for being where she was now she had almost thrown her daggers at those who had wished to take Zevran's place, who could have ruined everything.

She pulled the assassin closer and purred into his ear. "Then be gentle...and a man, Zev."

Too embarrassed to glance at his reaction, Laryll closed her eyes and sought the elf's lips, feeling both the fire's and his heat against her skin. She didn't even pretend not to get excited of Zevran's touch at this point. His fingers stroked her belly, gradually exposing more of what was under her shirt.

"Then relax, _mi bella_", he breathed and kissed the girl's ear. "I'll take care of everything, just relax."

Surprisingly, the Antivan's command was very easy to follow, despite Laryll having no previous...experience. She clenched again when her neck was being kissed and licked. Like a fingertip being sensitive to pain, there was a same kind of spot Zevran had found, causing the redhead to let out a sound of pleasure. She didn't control her breathing anymore. Her knee bent as a reflex.

Zevran stripped his own shirt first and deliberately unbuttoned Laryll's, keeping her mouth busy while doing so. He was sure that the elf hadn't even realized how quickly her bra had come off, at least not until he made her aware by brushing the rogue's naked breasts, circling them with his palm. A loud moan was his reward and he wanted to hear more.

"Zev...", Laryll called as the assassin's kisses were proceeding lower and lower, leaving wet marks on her chest.

The look Zevran saw on the rogue's face wasn't asking him to stop, quite the contrary if he could read her at all. Smiling, he continued and reached the tender area. His hand in Laryll's was almost painfully gripped when he touched her nipple with his tongue. The redhead's back curved a bit and she couldn't keep her voice in leash as her breast was being sucked. More chills filled her when the other one was squeezed by the Antivan's hand, his thumb and index rubbing the erected center now and then. Repeating his name only inspirited him and she knew the elf was enjoying listening her moans.

She was not going to interrupt or stop him in any other way. She tasted sweat and Zevran in her mouth and thought that there has to be some kind of limit to this before you become overdosed. But she didn't care. If blood mages hungered for power, she hungered for Zevran. He could never touch or kiss her too much. She would never tell him 'that's enough'.

"_Mi rub__í_", the assassin crooned and shifted, going lower while brushing his lips against Laryll's milky skin. The flickering flames showed her body to him and he was stunned of her beauty. The darkness highlighted her womanly shape, shadows dancing on her, competing for space he claimed first.

Laryll gasped as she felt her stomach being caressed. Her ears were burning and she clawed the carpet under her as Zevran gently removed her loose trousers. Stroking her thigh, he paused only to take off the rest of his own clothes, teasing Laryll by leaving her panties last. To him, it was funny how stripping the smallest piece of cloth makes women blush the hardest. The redhead was no exception on that matter. She released a noise when there was nothing covering her anymore, but hers was the one he had always wished to hear.

Laryll took a few shy glimpses, forgetting to consume air at times. _He's too handsome_, she thought. _Too perfect._ She loved Zevran's hair, how it tickled her when he investigated her body. His muscles, how they stiffened when she ran her palms across his back and arms. His warm petting on her belly, sliding lower and lower.

The moment was not for words, that much Laryll could figure out. Instead of speaking, she gave a fragile nod and grinned when witnessing the elf's smirk as response. By kissing the girl's lips, the assassin gained her attention and used it to his advantage.

Laryll cried out when Zevran's fingers were inside her. She sighed heavily and noticed how her squirming only stirred the Antivan to make her feel even more. Her groans got silenced and her neck was eaten once again. Embarrassed of making such loud noises, she bit her lip but only for a while. It was a miracle the nails of her right hand didn't wound Zevran's back as she pressed them against him every time he found the right spot.

Her whispering 'I love you' into the assassin's ear got his breathing pregnant and he slowed down a bit, focusing on exploring every corner of Laryll's mouth. He was more than satisfied of having been able to cause her legs to cramp and knew she could barely hold back anymore. A small amount of her spit flashed in the light of the fire when Zevran released her tongue, a smirk on his face he would show only to her. No-one else deserved it. No-one else could ever touch his very soul like she had.

He climbed on top of the redhead, massaging her soft breast and kissing the another to keep her relaxed and tranquil. Someone else might have judged from Laryll's calmness that she was no virgin, but they didn't observe her like Zevran did. The high pitched voice and the uncontrolled gasps conducted by it, not to mention how warm she had become.

She was his polished gem and he would always handle her like a butterfly with a pair of silk gloves.

"_Te amo, mi rub__í_", he murmured.

Laryll's lips were ready to answer the assassin, but her words were turned into a passionate moan of ecstasy and a small bit of pain when she felt Zevran inside her. Nothing could have prepared her for the sensation. Their bodies moved so slowly at first and it hurt only awhile, not that she was clocking the time. Each movement began to feel more comfortable and the rogue's groans were full of pleasure, her pain fleeing and finally vanishing. A small chuckle and lots of panting filled the room and she desired to be drowned by this.

Positively surprised of how Laryll was adapting, Zevran leaned to taste her, not allowing her to take a break to catch her breath. He dared to speed up and let the elf utter sounds which were music to his ears. His fingers crossed with hers and it was him who squeezed. If he had confessed earlier, would it had taken this long to be able to make love to Laryll? Would it had felt as wonderful as it did now?

The past didn't matter. The night was theirs only, an ignition of the spark they had.

He lifted Laryll's legs and kept the pace. As flushed as the redhead was already, her cheeks warmed even more and she cried out Zevran's name. The little foreplay had left her lower body delicate and shaking and she was certain she would soon explode from ardor. Furs under her were sticking on her sweaty back and she guided the Antivan's hand to touch her breast, whimpering as he was more than willing to comply.

Her gasps were getting stronger, her breathing becoming rapid which Zevran could sense against his skin when he conquered Laryll's lips, his chest pressed against hers. Listening to her whispers agitated him to make her wholly his. She belonged to him.

He pushed himself up so that he could see her face. Laryll opened her eyes and smiled as prettily she could from her huffing. She stopped a bead of sweat which ran across Zevran's tattoos and brushed his side. The Antivan knew she would soon beg him.

Yelps in Laryll's voice rang all over the place as Zevran moved hard and swiftly, rubbing her nipples and sending her to a whole new level of excitement. The colors looked like they were changing when she glanced the fireplace. The thrusts made her groan continuously and she wrapped her arms around the assassin, pulling him closer and crying how she couldn't take it anymore. She could hear how her body was giving up and her noises mixed with Zevran's. A gust of wind clattered the windows and the light seemed to be bouncing from one wall to another. Those were her last perceptions before she snapped her eyes shut, stopping a tiny tear by doing so. Motion inside her was too overwhelming and she could inhale air only in small portions.

She exclaimed and her body tensed. Her hands grabbed Zevran tightly and she shouted again and again when reaching her climax, together with the assassin to whom her cries were the last trigger. Exhausted, Laryll kept hugging him, listening to how they panted in synch and how quiet it was. Her palms still sweated and she sensed Zevran's heartbeat which was throbbing like her own. She carefully fingered his hair and met his smirk.

"Felt good, I take it?" he grinned.

"Mm", the girl uttered, trying to calm her breath. She gestured at the Antivan who gently let her go and laid down beside her, taking her into an embrace and stroking the messy crimson tresses.

"Same here, _mi amora_."

"Zev?" Laryll said in a low voice.

"Yes, _mi bella_?"

"Can you please shut up and hold me?"

"Of course, my most romantic elf."

* * *

**Notes: _Te amo = I love you_**

**AN IMPORTANT NOTE about sex scenes: This was my first attempt at writing a sex scene. Didn't want it to be too explicit, but not too...well, soft either. As the summary says, 'some eroticism'. I don't plan this story to have a huge amount of sex and the next scenes are most likely to be shorter than this one was. I know I may have promised sex scenes between Cousland/Alistair to some, but I then again, the elves are the focus here and although I have a plan about the Wardens, I don't consider their romance as important as Laryll/Zevran is. It is important for the plot, but not for the...hmm, well, don't have a correct word for that. They are going to have some sweet time too, but I probably won't be writing sex scenes for them. I'm keeping the story rating M, so that I don't have to mention before every chapter is the rating going to be different. It's sad, but I can't write everything and I can't please everyone, no matter how I'd like to. Maybe this is what it means to be an author, to grow and realize what's best for your story. Who knows, maybe I will write a separate one-shot with a C/A sex scene, but as for this, I can only promise some more sex scenes between L/Z.**

**Hope you still enjoy and understand, I couldn't have done this without you!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**I have been working on my own novel and short story, hence the break. I also started that Mass Effect fic I wanted to write, but I'm going to focus on this more. Only two written assignments left and they're both due next week. After that, most of the modules of this term end and I'll have more time for my own things, including this.**

**Also, this chapter starts the next quest, finally! Seeing how this story gets views and new readers is always a positive surprise, even though it doesn't get updated as frequently as it used to. I'm very grateful to all of you! Enjoy!**

"_What does 'I love you' mean, _mamá_?"_

_ The beautiful Dalish woman almost dropped a shining plate she had been drying. Laryll's innocent eyes of a child stared her, showing no hesitation or embarrassment. Perhaps that's the only reason she could have ignited such conversation. She really didn't know, despite having received kisses from the woman which had always been followed by those words._

_ "When someone says it to somebody else, it means they deeply care for him or her", Zevran's mother smiled, the pile of dishes clattering beside her as she continued to wash them._

_ Laryll pouted. "Then why some of the men who visit here say 'I love you' to Margaret and the others, but leave every night? If they like them, why don't they stay?"_

_ Realizing there was no escape from this, the woman sighed and excused herself from the kitchen, rubbing her hands to a white apron she wore before giving a small push on Laryll's back to lead her into the hall. It was early and the ladies were preparing for the evening by turning over red couch pillows and cleaning the floors. Incenses were not used yet, they were saved for customers. Instead, the windows had been opened and fresh air deluged inside. The scent of Antivan leather caught a ride, but luckily only a hint of it._

_ The Dalish asked for some privacy after seating herself on a mattress that had been removed from one of the bedrooms, patting the space next to her and still smiling at the little elven girl. The two women there nodded and left, carrying their buckets of water with them._

_ "Sometimes, a person can tell someone he loves her, but not truly mean it", she said. "They don't do it to express their feelings, but to make Margaret, Elise and everyone happy."_

_ Tucking the hem of her dress under her legs, Laryll's expression was quite clueless. "I don't get it", she admitted. "I become happy when _mamá_ tells me she loves me. Is that why you do it? To make me happy?"_

_ "Parents say it to their children because that's how they feel. Like Gareth and Juli, you remember them? They love each other which is why they say those words. Yes it makes them happy to hear it, but it also touches their hearts in a different way. The men visiting here can't do that."_

_ The woman was rolling her eyes, questioning her ability to explain such thing. Even her son knew already that the love in this building was faked. She didn't think Laryll wasn't smart enough to learn the truth, but she didn't wish to hurt her. Of course the girl had asked, but she had promised to talk about it once she grew up. Zevran had respected that decision and had become a master at turning Laryll's attention to elsewhere whenever she would have started to ask about this 'love' she so often heard about. All the ladies of the Dusk had agreed and no-one wanted to taint the child's mind with the real facts._

_ In the end, one couldn't run away for eternity._

_ "Does love always require kissing?" Laryll blurted, her purple orbs shining._

_ Now the Dalish blushed a little. "No, my dear", she chuckled. "You can tell your friend or sister you love them but you don't need to kiss. Some give a quick peck on a hand or cheek as a greeting, though."_

_ "It's to make them happy?"_

_ "Well, to put it simply, yes."_

_ "Thank you, _mamá_", Laryll smirked and kissed the woman's cheek before swiftly hopping up, glancing her as she was headed to the stairs. "I love you!"_

_ Grinning, the Dalish shooed the girl and got on her feet, not aware of why she rushed off like that. Even if the child wasn't her flesh and blood, she would do her best to provide a good life for her, free of worries and complicated things. And if the day her parents found her came, she would feel a bit jealous of them having such a cute and intelligent daughter._

0-0-0-0-0

"Ouch", Laryll groaned and the aching in her body woke her up.

The carpet made of thick furs was so soft and hard at the same time. The fireplace had fallen asleep, blackened remains of wood causing it to seem dark. The sun had risen hours ago and there was a blue bird at the window. Fortunately, it couldn't get inside, no matter how pretty it was. Spending the morning by chasing a bird in order to take it outside didn't sound like an appealing method of shaking off the last bits of sleep.

With a careful movement Laryll turned and was shocked to see Zevran beside her. Not because of regret of course, but because he was always up before her. That pattern hadn't been broken ever, yet there he was, lying and calmly breathing, his face right next to hers. The natural light made his Dalish tattoos seem almost as graceful as they had last night. The Antivan hadn't even undone his braids and Laryll was certain it would be among the first things he would take notice of once waking up.

Smiling to herself, she reached to remove the string that tied Zevran's hair, but as she was putting it on his shirt on the floor so that it would get lost, the elf mumbled something that didn't make any sense and slowly opening his eyes. Not even a well-slept night could erase his trademark smirk.

"_Buenos d__í__as, mi rub__í_", Zevran wrapped his arm around Laryll. "I hope you had good dreams."

"The best yet, _mi __á__mbar_", the rogue giggled and kissed his chilly lips. "Although, I'm a bit ashamed. Iselda rented such a gorgeous room with an actual bed and all, but we ended up sleeping on the floor. Seems like a waste."

The assassin's smile was very wry. "We still could try sleeping on the bed if that's what you desire."

"I think we've overslept already."

"That's not the kind of sleeping I had in mind, my dear."

"You...oh. Oh! You sly fox!" Laryll wanted to hit him with a pillow, but she didn't have one nor strength to attack. Then, she inhaled deeply and sighed. "Even if I wanted, my muscles disagree with me", she added, hiding her blush.

"That's the worst rejection I've heard in my entire life, _mi amora_", Zevran laughed. "I'd understand if you were recently stabbed or sick or bleeding because of-"

"Stop teasing me!" Laryll pushed him and jerked herself up, grunting as her body reminded her of the pain. "I need to wash my face first."

"Angry morning sex is the best sex. Trust me, it'll be most relaxing."

"It better be", the redhead shot a sneering glare at Zevran and got up, dragging herself to the separated bathroom while sensing a certain Antivan looking at her naked backside.

0-0-0-0-0

Laryll was sighing and rubbing her neck a lot while forcing herself to walk normally. Every step down the stairs stung her feet, even though she was wearing boots. After a bath she had taken just minutes ago the armor felt unusually sticky, like it encased her. Her hair was a little damp, but she had never been as dependent on keeping it pretty as Zevran was over his.

_Damn you, Zev_, she cussed, but her tingling body told her that straining her muscles even more had been worth it.

She spotted Iselda drinking a beer in the dining room and thanked the Maker there were no bards playing loud music currently. It was understandable Sten wasn't around scaring customers away, but none of the others were nowhere to be seen. Was it so late they had all eaten breakfast and gone on their errands already? Trying to decide which excuse to use for sleeping so long, Laryll approached the Warden.

"Morning my friend", Iselda greeted and brought the pint to her lips.

"Sorry for being so late", the rogue lowered her head and sat down, gesturing at a waitress. "I guess the bed was too comfortable."

"Or the company", the left corner of the warrior's mouth rose.

"Uh...", Laryll cleared her throat and was very fortunate the elven waitress came to take her order. She hoped the pause would take Iselda's attention somewhere else.

Of course, she was wrong and the Warden began to laugh. The redhead had never witnessed her laugh so sweetly, with no concerns or personal issues bothering her.

After pulling herself together, Iselda leaned forward and whispered: "You're not the only one who had great company to keep her awake."

Flushing hard, the elf's jaw dropped and closed, but the human's laughter was slowly getting contagious and she couldn't help but join, though she attempted to keep her voice down, unlike her friend. "I think we're disturbing the customers", she managed to utter while wiping her tears of joy, noticing the stares directed at them.

"If they knew we were on a quest to save the world, I'm sure they wouldn't mind", Iselda drank the last drops of her beer. "But, it wouldn't be wise to spread that information."

The Warden Laryll had come to know was again in front of her, but she was changed. So much depended on one woman. Alistair too, but he had said Iselda was the one who led and he had no problem with that. She still wasn't sure why the Wardens were needed to kill the Archdemon, but it's not like she could ask about the order's secrets. Whatever the case, she was glad if there was something between the two. Perhaps now she could see this natural side of Iselda more often.

A scent of porridge made Laryll straighten her spine and the waitress put her breakfast on the oaken table, wishing her good appetite and hurried back into the kitchen. The rogue had heard about the food Dalish elves tended to eat and it was quite different compared to human cuisine. They used a lot more ingredients from nature for example and vegetables were often served raw. The humans had a habit of boiling, frying or steaming all of their food. It made carrots and potatoes soft like the porridge she was enjoying, but the elves did that only for toothless babies. Personally, Laryll preferred to hear the crunching sound when biting her vegetables, though Cyrion often used both styles when cooking, respecting both the elven and human methods.

She had almost forgotten how good her father was at cooking.

While taking a bite of a green apple, Iselda glanced upstairs and quickly swallowed. "Slept well, Zevran?" she asked, making Laryll aware of the Antivan at the stairs.

"In which context?" the assassin stretched his arms and kept smiling, remarking how the redhead stirred a little and coughed.

"Not the one she's thinking of", the Warden chuckled and pointed at Laryll with her thumb. Her armor clinked when she shifted and abandoned her seat. "I sent Sten to buy some supplies and I bet he's done that by now. If you don't want to make a qunari wait, I'd suggest you get your tummies full quickly and we'll meet at the main gate."

As she was marching out, Iselda gave a 'good job' pat on Zevran's shoulder and her humming slowly faded until it couldn't be heard in the inn anymore. Shrugging, the Antivan was more interested in accompanying Laryll and after doing so, he asked the waitress for a piece of bread and some water, not in the mood for red wine or anything fancier to eat.

"Zev, I was thinking...", the rogue started, poking the final bits of her porridge with a spoon.

"Yes, _mi rub__í_?" the elf gave a fast response.

"Will our relationship hinder the mission? I'm worried we'll be treated differently. I'd hate it if we distracted the others in some way, weakened their performance even."

"My dear, you obviously don't have any experience in this kind of thing", Zevran was a bit amused of Laryll's words, lifting her chin with his index. "It's not going to affect the others if we don't let it. We'll focus on the matters at hand and whenever there are no darkspawn, demons or politicians at our throats, I swear to give all of myself to you. Separating the mission from our personal lives is not too hard, I assure you."

Hearing Zevran explaining that warmed Laryll's heart, whereas the solutions she had tried to think of made no sense and felt like a grasp of a cold hand. "What about you?"

"You have always been a distraction for me", the assassin sniggered. "But it gives me strength."

Laryll was rather good at solving puzzles, reading lips or guessing ones intentions, but she had never fully comprehended why people she cared about always spoke in riddles with her. "Me breaking your concentration makes you stronger?" her voice was low and her mouth almost touched Zevran's as he pulled her closer.

"It makes me remember what am I fighting for", the Antivan smirked and stole a kiss from his princess.

0-0-0-0-0

No matter how royally Laryll had spent her time in Denerim, she couldn't shake off the feeling of something being wrong. The guards didn't even took a glimpse of her and the alienage was closed. She couldn't believe Sten and the mages were the only reason their group was left alone. Passing through the gates was much easier than it was when she escaped and there was a caravan ready for departure. A merchant dressed in fine fabrics waved to Iselda.

"Is this the whole party?" the man asked, counting them with his finger.

"Yes", the Warden replied. "We'll split our group into the two last wagons. Give us a signal in case of trouble."

"Will do, ma'am", the merchant bowed a little and went to inform the driver.

Looking at Laryll's wondering expression, Iselda grinned and turned to her. "This is how we get to Haven. They will give us a ride and we will give them protection."

Laryll was relieved. She didn't like riding a horse, probably because she was so bad at it. The animal was too big and it required a lot of control. If she were to be able to fight, it was necessary she could grip the handles of her daggers and pink chafes on her palms definitely wouldn't allow her to do that.

"We certainly are lucky. Buying at least five horses would have depleted our funds", the Warden said, hands on her hips.

Zevran aided Laryll to get on the last wagon and followed behind. Sten and Wynne accompanied them and the rest climbed on the next one, Iselda giving a shout to the driver. The redhead hadn't traveled like this before, but she didn't mind sharing space with other passengers. Seeing new people was a pleasant change. There was a human female with a boy no older than ten and a man who introduced himself as the woman's brother. All ablaze with excitement, the child kept asking questions from Laryll and she awkwardly tried to answer to her best ability.

The boy's mother realized her son wouldn't stop, so she grabbed a lute beside her and began to play. It silenced everyone and the kid lay down, his brown head resting on the woman's lap. When she sang, her voice mesmerized Laryll. It was like a goddess was singing to her, her ears catching every note. Her breath slowed down until all she could hear was the woman's voice. The tune wasn't happy nor sad and the rogue didn't know its origins. She thought that it didn't matter if the human was improvising. Anything she sang would sound beautiful. Playing the instrument and holes on the road that caused the wagon jolt at times couldn't break her voice.

"Zev", the elf whispered silently as a cat, not wishing to interrupt the singing, "I think I finally know what I'm fighting for."

The assassin understood and used his left arm to take Laryll into his embrace. He brushed her shoulder and placed a kiss on her crimson hair, not paying attention to Wynne's staring.

0-0-0-0-0

It felt like the closer Iselda and her companions got to Haven, the more sinister the weather became. Clouds were dark, their edges colored in deep blue. They had encountered a few bandits along the way, but even fighting them was more like dancing on a flowery field compared to the atmosphere floating over the town. The merchant who owned the caravan seemed to question whether or not he should enter. Only the promise of good money from his merchandise kept him going.

In order to avoid suspicion, he had suggested that the Warden's party went first and he would stay to unload his cargo. Obeying the wise words, Iselda's group headed to the steep hill which would lead them to Haven. The stairs didn't deserve their name. They were just pieces of wood and gave an impression of an unfriendly welcome.

"Halt", a guard commanded as they reached the top. "What is your business here?"

"Grey Warden business", Alistair replied quickly. "A person who could help us should be here and we've come to-"

"Grey Warden or not, only traders are free to visit our town", the guard stopped him and glared angrily. "You have to present yourselves to the revered Father if you wish to get information."

Alistair lifted his brow. "I didn't know there was such thing as revered Father."

"You may ask your questions from him but do not question our ways. It's always been like this in Haven and we won't break the tradition."

Before Morrigan could spit some smart comments about the matter, Iselda stepped forward. "Where can we find him?"

"He's at the temple, but must not be disturbed", the guard folded his arms, still glaring. "You have to wait till his ceremony is over."

"The sooner we are done here, the sooner we'll be on our way", the warrior reminded, her face extremely grave.

The man snorted and for a moment, it seemed he would rather draw his sword than let the party inside. "The temple's there, on top of that hill", he pointed. "Wait for the Father there, quietly."

"Many thanks", Iselda tried not to show her frustration and made haste, eager to get away from the annoying guard.

Zevran, who had more or less his breath until now, sighed. "Fascinating."

"Let's be careful", Iselda warned, feeling very uncomfortable. "We only need to find Genitivi and then get the hell out of here."

The air smelled wrong and the people looked like ghosts in Laryll's eyes. Even a random child told them to go away. If the townsfolk had convinced a kid that outsiders were to be treated like criminals, who knows what other mysteries Haven hid behind its walls.

Suddenly, Dog caught a scent and sniffed the ground. It got separated from the others as it followed the trail, stopping at a door of an old house. The mabari growled and wouldn't leave its position, so Laryll called Iselda, who frowned at her oddly behaving pet.

She glanced around before putting her hand on the handle, surprised to notice the door wasn't locked. While the others kept watch, the Wardens and the elves followed the mabari inside the shack.

"Agh, what's this smell?" Laryll covered her nose and got shocked once she saw the source of such horrible whiff.

There was an altar, smeared with blood. No bones or body parts to indicate who or what had been killed here, but she could almost swear the truth wasn't something she'd like to hear. There were no butchering or skinning tools in the house, which made her believe the victim hadn't been an animal. No way taking an animal's life would result in this kind of mess.

Dog licked the red floor and whined after the taste kicked in. It backed off and padded to Iselda, who squinted at the sight.

"Definitely human blood", she said. "Not even a mabari would feast on it."

"My gut says this revered Father is not going to let us leave that easily", Zevran stated.

"Well if he's behind this, I have to intention of letting him continue either."

They told about their discovery to the others. Even though Leliana and Wynne preferred peaceful solutions, they shared Iselda's thoughts: the one responsible couldn't be allowed to escape. No-one had seen them going into the house, but they all sensed the people were leering at them, like wolves guarding their pack. The group was considered as a threat and the best Iselda could hope for was that they would find Genitivi in one piece, preferably alive.

The clock was ticking fast and choices had to be made. A huge group would alert the citizens even more in the temple, so only Morrigan and the elves would go with the Wardens to meet the revered Father. As humiliating as it must have felt, Morrigan had studied some healing magic since the incident in the Circle Tower. It was her offensive spells Iselda thought would be required if Haven was going to turn against them. The others returned to the caravan and if the merchant would leave until the exploration party was back, they were to set up a camp in the woods nearby.

When Alistair was approaching the temple's double doors, he halted to listen and gazed at his friends. "Sounds like chanting."

"I don't care if the Maker himself is there, the Arl's life is at stake", Iselda scowled and pushed the door open.

Some women and men were on their knees, hands crossed and they repeated anything a man in front of them said in a loud voice. Laryll's first opinion of them was that they looked like a fanatic cult. The person who most likely was the Father held his arms high and kept praying to someone he only named as 'Her' and 'She'. According to everything she had learned though, if they were holding this ceremony for the Maker, the terms should be 'Him' and 'He'.

One of the women gasped and alarmed their leader. He remained calm and concealed his true identity well from the strangers. The people were getting nervous, but he smiled at them.

"Do not worry, my children", he assured. "We've got guest and it is not their fault they aren't familiar with our rules." Once the inhabitants were relieved of the tension a bit, the man glided down the steps from the altar at the center of the room. "Greetings, my name is Father Eirik. I apologize for any inconvenience you may have encountered. We are very isolated from the rest of the world and some of us get anxious around visitors."

Iselda was not fooled by Eirik's formality, but she decided to play along for now. "I'm the one who should apologize. We didn't mean to disrupt, but our mission is too important."

The Father furrowed and Laryll saw his finger twitched in the same way as hers did. "It's clear you aren't traders. How may I help you then?"

"We are looking for someone. A scholar named Brother Genitivi. We believe he's here."

An abominable chill raised the hair on Laryll's skin and her mouth dried. Being able to sit through the trip to Haven had healed her muscles and she thanked the gods for that. She sensed an inevitable skirmish and secretly squeezed Zevran's hand, like she was trying to warn him. The assassin took note of her act and the fingers of his free hand curled, ready to unsheathe a dagger from its scabbard.

The cultists got very quiet after Iselda had mentioned Genitivi. They were taking a glimpse of Eirik in turns, murmuring and fidgeting.

The Father lowered his head and his smile changed into an evil sneer. "She must be protected. We will go to any lengths in order to preserve our faith. Her blessing will guide us and She will remember our deeds."

"Watch out!" Morrigan yelled and shot a lighting bolt at Eirik before he could prepare a spell. When she was attempting another attack, the Father cast an anti-magic ward around his people and her spell died.

Laryll wasn't wasting time by idling and wondering. Her daggers were in her hands faster than a bird could flap its wings and she dashed forward. The first man on her way shrieked when his chest got pierced and he fell. Killing townsfolk who weren't to blame but still fought back made the rogue disgusted and she took solace from a thought that these humans had killed many, even innocents. She had no proof, but it was the only thing that kept her blades dancing.

Dog shielded Morrigan, who made many efforts of dispelling the Father's magic. The commoners' swords barely managed to scratch Iselda or anyone with high quality armor on. They were too clumsy for Zevran and too fragile for Alistair. Eirik continued to cure his comrades, but the pace of new injuries being inflicted was too rapid.

When it was all over and only he was still standing, his eyes didn't show any sign of yielding. Instead, he launched every spell he had at the group, but mostly focused on healing himself. He panted heavily from exhaustion and his fingers trembled as he was emptied of mana. With just his staff, Eirik refused to give up and waved his weapon, which always was deflected by Iselda's sword and she wasn't even serious. Finally, the Father's legs failed him, but he wouldn't stop. Morrigan pointed out that he would soon start regaining his mana and Iselda should finish him and look for Genitivi.

Surprisingly, the Warden gazed at Laryll while the tip of her blade was at Eirik's throat. "What would you do in my boots?" she simply asked.

"I...", Laryll was going to say she wouldn't spare him, but her motives made her seal her lips. All she could think of was that the _shem _in front of her was dirty and had to be erased. But they weren't murderers. Yielding or not, Eirik didn't have a proper weapon and his magic was gone. Slaying him wouldn't bring justice to all those who had died in his hands.

"He's not-", the redhead took a step towards the man, but she froze, her mouth gaping.

With his both hands, Eirik clenched Iselda's sharp blade and wrenched it so it penetrated his neck. Life fled from his corpse and if there ever was light in his pupils, it vanished. His thick blood stained the sword and the ground, causing the Warden to cuss and jump back. Laryll moved to dodge one of the many trickles which slowly kept advancing forward.

Inhaling swiftly, Iselda cleaned her weapon and hung it on her back. "Search for clues", she ordered and it occurred to Laryll that perhaps the Warden had known which fate Eirik was going to choose.

The temple was quite blank, but marks of blood were all over the place. Even some of the sheets in the living quarters had traces of it, like someone who had been stabbed had lain there. The amount of valuables was insignificant, but any healing potions Iselda found she took with her. The revered Father had some kind of medallion in his possession with foreign symbols on it. Zevran was ready to sell it, but Iselda had a hunch the item was more than it seemed, so she put it in her pouch, threatening to cut the Antivan's fingers if he would try to steal it.

"Uh, hello?"

Laryll startled and tried to locate the unfamiliar voice. "Did you hear that?" she leered at Zevran.

"Please help me", the sound came again.

"Well now I did", the assassin said and whistled, which made Iselda turn to face him.

He gestured at the opposite wall which looked like solid, but then the voice behind it hollered one more time. After examining the bricks, Zevran spotted one that didn't match the color and shape of the others and gently pushed it. A hidden door was revealed and it slid out of their way with a clatter. A whole new room was filled with musty odor of books and something Laryll could only describe as death.

"Over here", the voice called out and the party found an injured man.

"Brother Genitivi?" Iselda guessed and hurried Alistair to get some bandages.

"Yes", Genitivi sighed and grunted as he moved in order to sit.

"I'm Iselda Cousland, a Grey Warden. We need your knowledge of the Sacred Ashes."

"I didn't think my age would worsen my senses this much already", the scholar laughed, though it hurt his broken ribs. "I was certain Eirik was talking only with one woman before I passed out again and if my eyes still work, I don't see any of you missing an arm."

Confused, Iselda sought support from the others, but her companions were as wordless as she was. "What do you mean?"

Genitivi blinked, almost as puzzled as the Warden. "A woman confronted Eirik when I was still awake. I don't know who she was, I only heard her talking about the Ashes. Eirik tortured me after she just disappeared, demanding to know what I knew about her." He winced at the sight of ripped skin on his hands. "I couldn't be useful. I don't know this one-armed mage as he constantly called her and how she knows about the Ashes is a mystery to me."

The room fell silent and Genitivi had no idea why. It would have helped a lot if Wynne was here to explain this situation. She had shared the story after they had left the Circle, but no-one could have anticipated the one she had spoken about was walking the same path as them. Even Morrigan had an intrigued look written on her face, considering how little of interest she generally had of people she hadn't met in the flesh.

"Rebeka?" Iselda was the first to utter the name everyone had on their tongues.

* * *

**Notes: _Buenos d__í__as = Good morning_**


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**A bit over two weeks and I'm off to Finland and I'll stay there for a month at least. I'm writing my own stuff as much as I can, but if my relatives are going to yank me around everyday, then I suppose it's less writing and more...being yanked around. But, maybe the summer makes me update this more frequently, like I did when I started this during last late summer. Of course, I need to focus on composing some music too.**

**Well, enjoy!**

Genitivi couldn't feel his foot, not even after Morrigan's healing. The cultists had done very thorough job at torturing him in order to gain information and keep him alive at the same time. Magic had been at work here and according to him, if the Wardens hadn't arrived when they did, he would have broken and spilled the beans. The images of nightmarish figures clawing his skin in a hallucination still lingered in his mind, reminding him of what he had been protecting.

It had been Iselda who had told Genitivi about the events at Denerim. The Brother had been very stunned to learn about the cultists plot to replace him with a fake, which also explicated why they had demanded to know about his personal life. The death of his assistant pained him even more and were it not for his injuries and old bones, he would run back to Denerim to correct any misunderstandings.

"Don't stand up just yet", Iselda said when the scholar grunted from moving. "A lot of mana was used to heal you, you must feel quite disoriented."

Nodding, Genitivi obeyed and took a deep breath. "I don't wish to stall you. You were here for the Ashes?"

"Yes, though now it seems we're not the only ones looking for them", Iselda's voice was low and she glanced at the others. "Can you tell me anything else about the woman who met Eirik? Why would she need the Urn?"

_Good question_, Laryll thought. If it really was Rebeka, her motives couldn't be easily guessed. No way she had risked her life by fleeing the Circle after the battle of Ostagar for simple reasons. The rogue knew Rebeka had bigger plans, but wondered whether her cause was for good or bad. She wanted to believe that Wynne had been right to let the mage go, but couldn't understand why she was hiding. It sounded like she preferred to be a lone wolf, trying to solve whatever problem she had by herself. Laryll was slowly getting confused of the facts and her wishes, melding together and seeking for a mutual goal.

"She wasn't exactly clear", Genitivi sighed. "All I heard her stating was that the future would be changed forever if she didn't retrieve the Ashes."

"Well that's ominous", Zevran snorted.

"If you hurry, you may be able to catch her at the temple."

Iselda lifted her brow, falling silent.

"The Ashes are being held in an old temple ruins, near the mountains", Genitivi explained. "The one-armed mage, or Rebeka as you called her, could be there, looking for a way to enter the place."

"I assume it won't be as easy as putting on socks?" Alistair frowned.

The scholar gazed in the direction of the hall on his right. "The door of the temple can be opened only with a medallion. I discovered it, but Eirik took it from me. He may still have it with him-"

"You mean this?" Iselda had quickly pulled the amulet out of her pocket, showing it to the man.

Gasping from a slight surprise, Genitivi smiled a little. "Yes, yes that's it! I do not know the mage's intentions, but her...aura worried me. The Ashes have an enormous amount of power and if given to wrong person, the consequences could be severe."

Iselda was in no hurry to trust Rebeka despite Wynne's story that had presented her as the victim. The girl was just a mysterious mage to her at this point, but a feeling in her gut told her that more was involved. She was well aware of her friends and foes, but currently Rebeka was neither. Secretly traveling from town to town and choosing the life of an apostate rather than revealing what made her act like this indicated that the information she carried was threatening. The knot was that Iselda wasn't sure who was in danger, them or her and who was the one needing protection.

Her eyes flashed and she rose swiftly. "We must go now", she said. "The caravan we accompanied here should still be waiting outside the village. They can take you back to Denerim."

Having an urge to protest, Genitivi opened his mouth, but the words didn't come out. He realized he wouldn't win the argument against the Warden. "Very well", he sounded disappointed. "In my condition, I would just slow you down, no matter how much I'd like to see the Urn myself."

Alistair began to help the scholar on his feet. "When we find it, you will know", he assured.

"I like your optimism", Genitivi laughed a bit.

0-0-0-0-0

"Disciples of Andraste?" Morrigan sounded almost amused.

"Yes", Genitivi said. "That's what the cultists call themselves. They wish to shield the Ashes and seem to believe Andraste is alive."

"And they'll do anything to prevent us from reaching the relic", Alistair sighed. "Wonderful."

"Andraste or no, I need the Ashes to cure the Arl", Iselda stated bluntly.

Lots of angry and despising glares had targeted the party as they walked back to the caravan, but none dared to halt them. Obviously, everybody had known about the scholar, but seeing him supported by a heavily-armed group covered in blood stains kept them away. Without the leader, even indoctrinated troops could figure out that throwing themselves against the enemy would be a suicide.

It was dark and windy which caused Laryll to shudder a little. Since leaving Denerim, she couldn't stop thinking about the alienage. The strong wooden gate sealing her home had screamed of suspicion. Spending the night with Zevran had calmed her nerves and made her forget the other elves dear to her for some time. She had decided to join Iselda in order to fight for the future, to preserve all that's beautiful and important to her. She couldn't help but have pity for Rebeka, who was probably fighting for the same thing, but she had isolated herself. The mage seemed too much like what Laryll had been after escaping her city and before having courage to speak.

If the rogue didn't do anything else for Rebeka, she would listen to her, like Zevran had listened to Laryll. She would tell her that the world is too big to save by herself. Her advice would be based on facts, as she had experienced that pain earlier.

Suddenly, the assassin took her hand, startling her a bit. "_Maldita sea_, you're freezing cold", he was surprised.

"No warm fireplaces here", Laryll chuckled and blushed slightly when her palms were warming from rubbing.

"Oh, so that's what's going on in your mind", Zevran sneered, giving a teasing pinch.

"I'm _not_ going to do this game-of-words again", the rogue faked an annoyed leer.

"You started it, _mi rub__í_."

Having quite enough of his innocent-looking face, Laryll weakly pushed the Antivan and saw Morrigan rolling her eyes. Although she was fine with gaining stares due to her relationship with Zevran, she still got embarrassed, especially if someone made comments. Her love wasn't fresh, it had bloomed a long ago, but for the first time it was more concrete.

As Laryll was convincing the assassin that she wasn't ill, Iselda called the merchant out at the village entrance. She noticed that his men were preparing to leave and her companions who had stayed behind climbed out of one wagon, ready to aid with Genitivi.

"What happened?" Wynne asked, checking if she could do more about the scholar's injuries when he had been laid down.

"He's Genitivi", Iselda confirmed. "We know where the Ashes are and there's no time to waste."

"The mage you told us about, Rebeka, she's likely looking for the relic too", Alistair said before Wynne could inquire why the haste.

The old healer wasn't shocked, but the look she had suggested that she knew the truth already. "I had considered it", she told them. "Andraste's Ashes hold great power and if she's going to alter the future, she's likely searching for these kind of resources. What she's going to do with them, I don't know."

Iselda glanced Genitivi and waved the merchant to wait a few seconds longer. "Rebeka could be where the Ashes are. Shouldn't you come with us?"

"I cannot risk her thinking that I'm there to take her back to the Circle", Wynne shook her head. "I'm sure we'll meet again, but now is not the time, for her sake."

Respecting the mage's wishes, Iselda left the matter at that and thanked the people of caravan again for providing them a ride, the rest of the party organizing their backpacks between those who would stay in a camp and those who would go hunt for the relic. She watched the clattering wagons slowly getting cloaked by the mist as the caravan receded, completely vanishing after a while.

The Warden had to remain calm, but her thoughts were swarmed by concerns. Defeating the Blight was enough, but as much as she hated to admit it, the blindness of Rebeka's motives was driving her crazy. If the mage was acting to save the future, why didn't she show herself and let Iselda and the others help?

Not only Rebeka made a lump rise in her throat. The entire world was darker than ever. Villages like Haven with clueless people, unborn children who were protected only by their mothers' wombs and the sun that was to scared to show itself. Iselda hadn't told anyone, but her first motivation to become a Warden had been the revenge she had vowed to get for her family. The order granted her a status which would serve her better than her nobility. What she had realized after Duncan's death was the responsibility that came with the Joining. The bleak scenery and streams of tears had pushed the scheme of revenge away, to wait until her eyes would meet laughing faces and green grass.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Alistair leaving the others and walking to her. She didn't turn. The long, misty road and the emptiness at the end of it had gained her full attention.

Alistair coughed. "Daydreaming?" he smirked, failing to see anything important ahead.

Yet Iselda kept staring the road. "Yeah, I'm trying to imagine how handsome you would look like in king's clothes."

"Then keep dreaming, because that's not going to happen", the male Warden ruffled his hair.

Chuckling, Iselda crossed her arms across her chest. "You don't know that for sure. I say you'd be a great king."

"And I say fighting a battle in the field beats fighting it in a throne room."

"Think of all the cheese you would be able to get your hands on."

Alistair was silent for a long time, his chin lifted and sniffing the air. "Hmm, hadn't thought about that", he said, still looking like he was tasting something on his tongue. "But no, not even for the cheese."

"Why not?" Iselda was staring to give up.

"Because the field is where you are", Alistair leaned a bit closer. "Wherever you are, that's where I belong."

The warrior snickered and touched the man's nose with the tip of her index. "A bastard _and_ a romantic. I thought I would never find a man who would be both."

Her lips stopped any joke the Warden might have had to respond with. Her passion flowed into his body and she enjoyed the short moment to the fullest. She knew it was going to take a pile of enemies' corpses, blood, sweat and mud on her boots before they would have a chance to rest again. After she would save the Arl's life, the least she was going to ask as a reward was to sleep for one night in one of the glamorous rooms in the Castle.

The kiss was over when she began to grin from thinking about how big the double-beds would be in the Castle. "Come on, we've got work to do", she acted like a leader again, fixing her posture.

Alistair smiled back. "Hm, yes, the sooner the better, right?"

"Absolutely", Iselda winked, her ponytail swaying as she made her way to her companions.

0-0-0-0-0

The same party that had investigated Haven had departed to the mountains. Sten hadn't cared about the Ashes and Leliana had stated that 'she was too impure' to lay her eyes upon such a holy relic at the moment. Her past was quite a mystery to everyone, but her love towards the Maker was not, which was why her decision to stay behind was puzzling. Not even a resurrected Andraste could make her come with the Wardens. Morrigan had always been rather clear of her opinion about the deities, but to the group's amazement, she had gladly accepted to go to the ruined temple, to 'feed her curiosity'.

The temple couldn't be reached by taking the main road, so Iselda and those who had accompanied her had cut through a small forest, not encountering any wild animals or other obstacles than snow that was getting thicker the closer they got to the mountains. She and Alistair carried most of the healing potions they had taken with them, strapped on their belts. The Warden couldn't estimate how long finding the Ashes would take, so she and the rest had packed lot of rations. She was a little jealous of the elves and their light armor, but would rather be a bit encumbered than die from the first slice of a sword.

A quiet atmosphere met the party once they reached the temple. Not even birds were nesting anywhere nearby. Flora grew all around it despite the cold, vines snaking from the ground to the roof and overgrown trees cast their shadows over the temple. The mountain was right behind it and it seemed that the temple was attached to them. After someone would get to the other end of the building while inside, he would come across the mountains, maybe caverns of some sort.

The door wasn't too visible and it wasn't large. Iselda stepped closer, squinting her eyes and letting out mumbling sounds. She inspected the carvings and rubbed some of the dust between her fingers. When she glanced around, she noticed her friends had also remarked the army of footprints on snow. She was definitely not the first who had led a party here.

"No sign of women with one arm", Zevran reported after looking around.

"She may have not been able to get inside the temple and is searching for another way", Iselda thought aloud, holding the medallion in her hand. "I believe this is where I'm supposed to insert this."

Alistair concurred after seeing an imprint on the door with the same shape and pattern as on the amulet, suggesting the warrior to try it.

As Iselda's hand was gliding towards the door, Laryll quickly halted her by gently grabbing her arm. "Wait", she blurted and gestured at the handle.

Shrugging, Iselda moved and took a look of what the elf was pointing at. There seemed to be nothing unusual, but then her eyes met the doorjamb. Either the door was poorly built, or it was slightly open. The Warden was ready to bet on the last option.

When she gave a little push, the door creaked like it was having a bad day and slowly opened with her assistance. The others couldn't do anything but watch in wonder and go in after the path was clear.

"Guess we can now sell the amulet, no?" the assassin maintained hope, but shut his mouth due to Iselda's glaring.

"Someone had opened the door without it?" Laryll looked at the Wardens.

Eventually, Morrigan realized how all gazes were targeted at her. "It would take some weird magic to bypass the mechanism", she said. "I certainly do not possess power to do something like that and have no idea why Rebeka or anyone could, unless..."

"What?" the group asked almost simultaneously.

The witch stroked her chin and there was a smirk on her lips. "There are numerous forbidden spells, usually written in tomes or on scrolls and then buried somewhere to be forgotten. My mother has acquired some of these, but many more are lost, protected by strong wards and anti-magic barriers so that no-one would ever obtain them."

"I remember mother mentioning few spells related to conjuring magic. A talented mage could produce an identical replica of almost anything. It could be that this Rebeka met with Eirik only to see the amulet in order to make a copy of it. He was wearing it around his neck, so she could have easily examine it."

"Why was that spell banned?" Laryll asked.

"Think about it", Morrigan snorted. "What a court mage could do with such power, with access to anywhere in a king's castle? Or any mage?"

Figuring out what Morrigan meant, Laryll was left wordless and she didn't question more. Rebeka was becoming even more shady in her mind. Escaping templars was one thing, but using forbidden magic? Could she be a blood mage? After picturing it, she was fast to erase such thoughts. Wynne wouldn't stand for Rebeka if she was a blood mage and after fighting in the Fade side-by-side with the spirit inside the healer, Laryll knew Wynne could be trusted and she wouldn't lie or fight for sinners.

Rebeka had had a choice: she used forbidden magic instead of killing Eirik and taking the amulet. Laryll wished they would have had a choice, but Eirik's suicide showed that he wouldn't have stood down, no matter what.

"Let's be on alert, she could be somewhere in the temple", Iselda concluded and moved forward.

It was cold inside, just like it had been outside as well. There was ice covering the walls and some snow was coating the floor like white paint. Laryll only hoped the Ashes weren't too far, because the chills were causing her goose bumps. The large fire in the middle of the great hall provided no warmth if you didn't stand next to it. Torches hanging on the pillars weren't helpful either except as the source of light.

Before the party could set a step on the wide stairs up, a band of cultists revealed themselves and attacked. They didn't seem to have other plan than to stop anyone from getting past them. With better tactics, Iselda and Dog handled the archers while Alistair tricked those in melee to target him, giving the elves lots of opportunities to stab the opponents behind. Anyone brave enough to attack Morrigan got frozen or electrocuted or both. With a bunch of offensive spells, a mage could hardly be scratched in a battle.

When the fight was over, Iselda made sure her comrades hadn't been wounded badly, noting how jealous Alistair was of the attention she gave to Dog. A locked door stopped them from advancing, so she asked to look for a key. There were two doors on her left and right, the other being locked as well.

Because the locks couldn't be picked, Zevran checked the remaining entrance, pleasantly surprised to see it was totally normal with no extras. As he watched the redhead to slightly open it, all color fled from his face.

"Laryll!" he shouted and pulled her out of the way just in time before a raged bronto charged through the door, destroying it and ignoring the flying pieces of wood.

Alistair lifted his shield when two archers behind the animal shot at him once they had a clear sight. The arrows clinked against the metal and the Warden rushed to aid the elves, cutting the bronto before it would consider anyone else as its prey. As the beast was turning around, he tried to daze it by slamming its head, without a success.

"We got this, get those two!" Zevran gestured at the archers with his dagger and sought for a vulnerable spot if a bronto ever had one, relieved that Dog's barking was averting the beast's gaze from him.

Iselda called Laryll and was all over the cultists in no time. One of them interrupted her attack by tossing sand in her eyes from his pocket, blinding her for a while to get away with his partner. Exposed back however was a perfect target for Laryll, who threw her other blade and it sank in the slower cultist's neck. The Warden soon recovered and caught the one who had played with her, thrusting her sword and inflicting a hideous injury on his side. Groaning, the man fell on his knees, trying to keep Iselda and Laryll away by swinging his bow. Without hesitation, the warrior cut the archer again, this time ending his life.

When Laryll made haste back to Zevran, she saw how the bronto was on the verge of collapsing, blood oozing from various cuts on its body. She didn't even want to know what Dog had gnawed for the mabari's teeth to have become so red. One final combined attack from the Antivan and Alistair was enough to finish the animal. Laryll felt the ground shake a bit when the bronto's heavy corpse slumped.

Grinning victoriously, Zevran sheathed his daggers. "Crow poison, stuns even a bronto apparently."

Iselda was quick to join the group. "I heard noises around the corner, so there are more cultists", she said and calmed her breath.

"These guys _really_ don't want us to get the Ashes", Morrigan sneered. "Wonder if Andraste would be flattered, to have such dedicated followers."

"Dedicated and murderous", Alistair added.

The redhead laughed, but noticed that Zevran wasn't sharing her emotion. "What?"

"You almost got trampled by a bronto, my dear", the assassin's voice was very hollow.

"Yes, thank you for reminding me. I'm in no hurry to find out if the saying related to such experience is true."

"Still, a bronto almost ran over you."

Laryll smiled and kissed Zevran's cheek. "I'm a very lucky girl, in many ways." She turned to leave, but looked behind once more. "Thank you."

_What I'm trying to say is that you were in such danger, yet you're laughing_, the Antivan thought, smirking to himself. In his eyes, it indicated that Laryll had got much stronger and more confident. She relied on her abilities and wasn't afraid. He knew the change wasn't only because of him, which made him glad in a certain way.

But he wasn't going to tell that to Laryll. He knew it would make her too proud.

* * *

**Notes: _Maldita sea = Damn_**


	26. Chapter 26

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**I've always had an issue with POV shifting, also called head-hopping. I've done a lot of editing in my own novel and short stories during the past year or so and I've written very slowly just to get rid of the problem. I have no idea why I haven't been as careful with fan fiction and when I read some of the earlier chapters, I actually got irritated at myself for shifting POV in one scene too much (a scene lasts until separated with that 0-0-0-0-0 mark of mine). So I apologize if this has confused some readers and I promise to pay more attention to POVs in this story as well. Majority of it should be from Laryll's POV and maybe I'll edit some chapters to follow that concept once I've got time. I gave Zevran the honor to start this chapter and tried to stay in Laryll's head during the rest of it. And yes, I will switch to other characters' POVs too, but I try not to do that in a single scene.**

**Enjoy!**

"Damn!" Laryll cussed when her feet got stuck on sticky spider web. "A little help here?"

Smirking, Zevran lured the pack of eight-legged monsters to attack him, giving Iselda an opportunity to cut his damsel-in-distress free. Some cultists tried to overwhelm him, believing that he wouldn't have a chance with all the spiders around him, but a quick whistle was enough to alert Alistair and Morrigan. Never had he witnessed them working so well together. It only made him smirk more while the creatures jumping next to him were totally underestimated and finally defeated by his daggers.

The last enemy got frozen by Morrigan's spell and Zevran playfully grimaced as Alistair smashed the poor man with a shield, shards of ice digging into his flesh.

"You have no refinement at all, my friend", he tutted. "Just look at this spilled blood."

The male Warden snorted, wiping sweat from his forehead. "And I suppose an assassin keeps himself as pristine as Andraste's bathroom?"

"But of course", the Antivan spread his arms in an expression of self-evidence. "A person we are contracted to kill is loathed by the customer, but not by us. No need to dirty our hands any more than necessary, no?"

"Your attempt to assassinate Iselda was not what I'd call clean."

"Well, my friend, that wasn't my usual _repertorio_, I'm afraid."

"Then what is?" Alistair had to assume that the term the elf had used was close to the word he knew in his own language.

Chuckling with amusement, Zevran patted the Warden's shoulder. "If I tell you that, you'd become my next target for, 'unveiling sensitive business information'."

Alistair's brow lifted. "Wait a minute, that would be you, not me."

"But you'd be the only one who could testify against me."

"Ugh, you... And Antiva is full of crooked people like you?" Alistair groaned and gave up, making his way to Iselda to check if she had any injuries.

Zevran didn't hide how victorious he felt, even though he knew in his heart he wouldn't apply the Crow's methods any longer. Only those who threatened him and his friends were qualified to experience the art of his blades. Fighting in large battles wasn't too alien for him, but he admitted it was a huge change from killing his targets by laying them before cutting their throats, in most cases.

He envied how fast Laryll had adapted. After thinking about it, he couldn't come up with anyone else who might be as determined and strong-willed as the rogue, definitely not himself. She had her own share of scars, but Zevran could deduce that she hadn't obtained all of them from battles. The tip of her ear had been removed too precisely, like an act of torture. The wound on her back was what a scratch on a shield would look like if raised to take a blow.

There was also a small mark from the arrow she had taken to the chest when she had jumped between the assassin and the Warden.

Although Laryll was a rookie in the field, in such short time she had adapted.

"So...", Zevran began as he slowly walked to the redhead.

"Don't you dare", Laryll growled.

"A spiderweb?"

"I'm warning you." Laryll continued to struggle with getting rid off the webs stuck in her hair.

"Do you need any assistance, _mi amora_?" Zevran was holding his laugh. When he was glared at, he lifted his hands and smiled, leaving the vexed elf in peace but didn't lose his sight of her.

Certainly, she had got accustomed to the battlefield, but he would still keep an eye on her. She was too stubborn to be allowed to dance alone.

0-0-0-0-0

Dog's quick reflexes had saved Laryll from a cultist mage who tried to ambush the elf when she had opened a door in a place which looked like living quarters. The mabari ensured the opponent gained no chance to concentrate on casting a spell by pinning him down on the floor. Other enemies weren't able to aid their mage, so their swords targeted the Wardens.

As Laryll found many vulnerable spots, she began to realize that these cultists weren't trained in combat. Their weapons were cheap and the only tactic they seemed to be using was 'kill or be killed'. She couldn't feel pity nor show any mercy, because the men weren't going to yield. Even when she slit the Achilles heel of one cultist and waited for a surrender, the opponent crawled to reach his dropped sword and swung it clumsily at her. It was too much for her to watch and she penetrated the man's chest with her dagger, asking for forgiveness in her mind. The cultist gurgled, raising his hand to either gouge Laryll's eyes out or to strangle her, but all he could do was leave a bloody trail from his fingers on the elf's face before life abandoned his body.

She commanded herself to stop looking at the corpse and rush to Iselda. Dog had caught a scent of another wave of cultists in the next room and the Warden had offered a helping hand by kicking the door, depriving the enemies the luxury of initiative. The mage inside was again going to be the mabari's meal and Laryll could circle her targets without fear of a lightning bolt striking her.

The rogue winked and apologized when she ducked behind Alistair, her blades ready to cut a cultist who was too busy smashing the Warden's shield. With a swift movement, she tripped the cultist, making him lose his balance. Alistair figured out her intentions and shifted out of the way as quickly as a man in heavy armor could. Eyes flaring, Laryll leaped forward and sank her daggers into the opponent's body, twisting them in order to end his pain.

With an exhausted expression, she glanced at the others and sighed from relief when Iselda and Zevran slew the last remaining cultist. Her lips were touched by a slight grin when Iselda tried to assure Dog that a man it was chewing wasn't going to get up anymore.

"I've always wondered", Zevran looked at the female Warden, "why don't you ever search the bodies?"

Puzzled, Iselda stared at the assassin. "Because", she took a glimpse of Morrigan, "we're not scavengers."

"But we are infiltrating a sacred temple in order to take the Ashes, no?"

"Yes, because we have to cure the Arl."

"So that a reason enough to 'scavenge' the temple?"

"If you're asking a permission to loot, then go ahead, I won't stop you."

"My dear Warden, I may be simple-minded at times, but I'm not suicidal."

Iselda's smile was too pleased in Laryll's opinion when the warrior went to her mabari. No matter how weird the redhead thought it to be, it seemed Zevran was shackled by two invisible chains. One of them was held by the Warden, whose influence made him think and act like part of a team, not like an assassin striving to survive another day.

The other was attached on Laryll. She had never been bothered about Zevran's habit of flirting with everyone. The fact that he had been doing that less and less was surprisingly unsettling. She didn't wish to be the cause of changing him, although she knew it was too late to hope for that.

"I found a key", Morrigan informed from a small storeroom with chests and cabinets.

"Let's try it on the door in the hall", Iselda said and gestured Dog to follow her, assuming she wouldn't have to do so for the others.

Laryll rubbed her arms and wrapped her cloak tighter around her. She stuffed her hair inside the collar to cover her ears, hoping it would make her warmer.

0-0-0-0-0

The key they found didn't unlock the path forward, but an old wooden door near the entrance. Behind it the group discovered some chests and one of them contained a fine key. After inspecting it a while Zevran stated that the key was likely the one they needed. Laryll gave Iselda a look of trust and the Warden headed to the stairs, swearing that she wouldn't let it slip if the assassin was mistaken. The redhead was quite sure the snarling was because of how frustrated her friend was about going back and forth for some stupid key.

What she couldn't understand was the cultists' idea of storing such an important item inside a box, protected only by a locked door that Iselda could tear down if she was in a bad mood.

'Finally' was the only word Iselda uttered when the door to the main hall got unlocked. Laryll wasn't fool enough to take another step when she saw the room. It was large, with long stairs to the upper level. A blue silk carpet looked like a river running in the middle of the hall, with sparkling golden pattern edging it. There was a bit of smoke in the air, but she couldn't tell if it was because of the cold or something more eerie.

"Halt", a figure on top of the stairs commanded and knocked the floor with his staff. "We will not tolerate any more uninvited guests, but we also do not wish to spill any more blood in Her temple."

At least a dozen archers showed themselves and pointed their arrows at the group. Laryll was about to react by drawing her daggers, but got stopped by Iselda.

"Are you saying someone else came before us?" the Warden inquired.

"Yes, a mage", the man who obviously was a spell-caster himself replied, gazing the ceiling like he was reliving some moment. "A powerful mage with magic I've never seen."

"Sounds like our mysterious girl prefers dark alleys over the main road", Morrigan snorted. "My mother would surely like her."

Ignoring the witch's words, Iselda turned her attention back at the speaker. "We are here for the Ashes. The Arl of Redcliffe will die without them. As a Grey Warden, I cannot allow that to happen, so either you let me pass or you're history. That's the only deal I'm going to offer you and nothing else."

Throwing such names was their last card, but Laryll was skeptical. She couldn't see the man's eyes in the darkness, but would bet that he would rather die than step aside. The archers were totally silent and their arms weren't shaking. One gesture from their leader would make them let go of the string of their bows. They weren't like the cultists Laryll had fought till now. The higher ground gave them advantage, but she guessed that these enemies had a trick or two for close combat too.

Gritting her teeth, she started to estimate in which direction she should dash to escape the coming shower of arrows. Likely the archers were able to tell from her body language if she was planning to evade to the left or right, so she tried to be very inconspicuous when glancing around.

"Only the worthy may enter Her temple", the man stated. "Those who can obtain a black orb and ignite the Holy Brazier. No-one else than the true disciples can do that."

"Oh, so that's what this thing is for?" Morrigan examined a black ball in her hands.

Rage was filling the mage. "Where did you get that? Only Her followers are permitted to carry one!"

Morrigan sneered. "I sensed some unknown magic in it, so my curiosity demanded that I 'relieve' those pitiful cultists of it."

The man's fist was trembling and he was clearly disgusted of just looking at Laryll and the rest. _So much for the negotiations_, the rogue sighed.

"So be it", the mage said.

_The only way is onward_.

"Glorious Andraste, please accept the sacrifice we present to you", the man continued and raised his staff.

While the Wardens and Morrigan remained in their position to deflect the arrows, Laryll somersaulted out of the formation and noticed instantly how Zevran had done almost the same. None of the piercing sticks touched them and Iselda had even managed to grab one before it could hit her.

The rogue grinned. Zevran had read her thoughts. The mage needed to be dealt with first and the archers had to be separated from their bows. The sooner they got on the top floor, the better.

"He's all yours, Dog!" Laryll heard Iselda's cry.

In the blink of an eye, a mabari had reached the stairs and dodged a freezing cone the mage shot at it. Laryll distracted the man by tossing one of her daggers, forcing him to cancel a spell. By the time he turned to face Dog again, the beast had jumped and its claws dug into the opponent's shoulders, making him scream.

Despite the extra-weight on top of him, the man shouted foreign words and the orb on his staff lit for a second. The glimmer spread and Laryll noticed movement behind Iselda. Two horrid creatures had appeared out of the blue next to the Wardens, letting out an awful noise.

She cursed and picked up a round object from her pouch while running upstairs. She bit a short string on it, pulled and tossed the ball, targeting four archers who were nicely clustered. The item exploded and a burst of flames engulfed the squad of archers, their yells being slowly silenced by the crackling fire. Others behind them were too stunned to notice Zevran who had taken the opportunity and had used the railing to circle the burning ground. One archer was unfortunate to have been standing near a gap in the handrail. The assassin's kick staggered him and he fell one floor down, being still conscious from the impact when Morrigan finished him.

"Get it together men!" someone shrieked behind Laryll.

The redhead spun around and made her way to her second dagger she had thrown at the mage earlier. Her fingers snatched it from the floor and she hurried to the one who had rallied his comrades. She almost collided with Dog who had killed the mage and now charged an archer who was about to shoot Laryll. From the corner of her eye she saw one of the wraith monsters turn into ash and Alistair running to her. He seemed reluctant about leaving Iselda alone, but the elf knew he was aware of the lack of choices.

She evaded an arrow by a whisker when she crouched. Her opponent fumbled with his bow, attempting to switch to a melee weapon. With one blade, Laryll cut the man's arm, causing him to lurch from pain. Her other dagger went to the enemy's throat, cleaving it. She took a few steps back in order not to get wet from all gushing blood.

When the dead man collapsed, Laryll's eyes widened. Another archer was aiming at Iselda and before she could say anything, the arrow was released and it pierced the Warden's calf.

"Argh, shit!" howled Iselda, falling on her knees and holding her leg.

Alistair yanked his blade out of an opponent he had fought against, but two more unsheathed their short swords and ensured he couldn't go to the Warden. Spitting a 'tsk' sound, Laryll grabbed a bow and an arrow from the man she had slain. The weapon felt very uncomfortable in her hands, but her only intention was to delay the creature long enough for Iselda to get up or for Morrigan to cast a spell.

Serving no room for doubt, Laryll lifted the bow and loaded it. She was no archer and had often underrated them, no matter how many times she had been shot during her life. She even thought them cowards sometimes, but as she now sweated from steadying her aim, her opinion was about to change. One error could make her hit the wrong target, her companion.

Who wants that kind of responsibility?

She loosened her grip and the arrow whistled as it flew. Her heart was racing and she dared to breathe only after seeing she had succeeded. The wraith roared when the arrow struck its head. While it was dazed, Morrigan launched a magical fist of stone at it, disorienting the monster even more. Grunting, Iselda leaned against her sword to stand up and swung it with every ounce of strength she had. The wraith was cut in half, both pieces transforming into ashes.

Laryll got spooked by one last archer who had escaped Dog's bite. The man tackled her and followed her down on the ground. He grappled the elf and raised a glinting dagger, a maniac look written all over his face.

The redhead closed her eyes and mouth firmly when the man's throat was punctured by Zevran's blade and blood poured on her. She shoved the body off her and slowly wiped her face with her palms, just so that she could glare at the Antivan. "Thanks a lot", she said in a low voice.

"There's plenty of snow to get you all pretty and stainless again, _mi rub__í_", Zevran defended himself.

"Tell me, would you allow me to bathe _you_ in blood?"

"Bathe, yes. Blood, no."

"Remind me, why do I love you so much?" Laryll was still rubbing her eyes.

Zevran smirked after finding a white piece of cloth and cleaned the rogue's lips with it. "Because of my handsome looks of course. You wouldn't want to ruin this face, now would you?"

Laryll sniggered and received a gentle kiss, making a note of how her foolish Antivan was careful not to get smeared with the blood. She resisted the temptation of doing so on purpose and let the assassin have his way this time. Zevran released her mouth and told her to keep the cloth before he headed to Iselda, who was being healed by Morrigan.

Dog gave a bark at Laryll and she squatted only to get licked by the mabari. "I think this is going to require more than that", she laughed and began to search for some snow, Dog still walking by her side.

0-0-0-0-0

Hours went by, battles were won, injuries were suffered. Laryll was nursing her wounded arm, keeping watch as the others were catching some sleep. After lighting the Holy Brazier, the party had been led to more cultists and wraith creatures. The enemies had been persistent, although their tactics had again been very poor. Even Morrigan had got fed up with fighting against people she considered to be trash and had used her shape shifting abilities to quickly slay her opponents. But it had been the cultists' numbers which had sucked all the juice out of Laryll and the others. She hadn't been the only one who had made ridiculous mistakes resulting in too many needless wounds.

She did appreciate that it wasn't as cold as it had been in the previous halls. She had no idea why the cultists' living quarters weren't located here where it was warm. The section of the temple they currently were in had more of those blue carpets she had seen in the main hall, but no furniture. The most prominent objects had been the statues of Maferath, Andraste's husband and Hessarian who ordered her burned. She remembered the stories Zevran's mother had told her, but for some reason Iselda had nonetheless been quite perplexed when the Antivans had recognized them.

It wasn't like she didn't care about religion, but it just didn't have that much of a meaning to her. During her short talks with Leliana she had become aware of how some people had more meaningful bond to it. After walking through the corridors of the sacred temple she couldn't help but wonder why a person like Leliana would stay behind. _I'm too corrupted_, the bard had said. Was the Maker so unforgiving that He would deny the love of such dedicated woman?

While pondering about it more, she couldn't tell if she truly believed in the Maker or Creators or any gods. She liked to think sometimes that some greater entity had brought her and Zevran back together, but she couldn't swallow that the same being would approve so much pointless death because of the Blight.

"Ow!" Laryll silently groaned when she accidentally pressed the wound too hard.

"You should stop touching that, or it won't heal", came a very familiar chirping voice that belonged to a certain witch.

Laryll turned her head. Morrigan, who had of course isolated herself from the rest of the party, walked from the shadows like a ghost, a black book in her hands. She seated herself, leaving a comfortable space between them.

"You want to take the watch?" the rogue asked.

"Would it surprise you if I revealed that I've been awake all along?" Morrigan's smile was a bit evil.

Laughing a little, Laryll tucked some of her hair behind her ear and hugged her legs. She took a glimpse of the tome the witch had opened. "What is that?"

Morrigan's eyes kept following the text. "While you were in the Circle Tower, Iselda found this for me." She leafed through the pages and stopped at the first one, pointing at a name on it. "'Tis Flemeth's grimoire. How it ended up in those mages hands I cannot tell for sure."

"Your mother's, right?" Laryll checked and Morrigan's nod indicated her knowledge of it was correct. "I've heard tales of Flemeth in the alienage, some of them quite unbelievable. Are you really her daughter?"

"She's the only mother I've had, that's all that matters", Morrigan said. "I hoped to learn some of her spells or rituals from this book, but there's something odd about it."

"Odd?"

"I still need time to translate and comprehend this, but the tome may contain a bigger secret than I had imagined."

"Do you need any help?" Laryll lifted her head she had rested on her knees.

Chuckling, the witch's golden eyes looked at the elf. "I'm positive that you will be tied to my problem somehow, but unless you develop certain...skills any mage should have, you can't assist me. Not until I've figured out this grimoire."

The redhead blinked several times, a reaction Morrigan observed.

"You haven't noticed?" the witch raised her brow slightly. "Many events seem to have included your intervention. The Castle, the Fade, even your dear assassin's fate. He would be dead if you hadn't interrupted."

Laryll felt nauseous when thinking about how close Zevran had been from the death's door. Her fever at that time had nearly convinced her that it had been a hallucination. Thanks to her instincts, her body had moved, though it almost killed her.

"I don't believe that", her lips curved. "Faith, the spirit inside Wynne, could have saved all of us with less effort and I only happened to have one solution to keep Connor safe."

"I remember a weak, teary elven girl who had shut herself inside a room of an inn to avoid worrying and pitying looks directed at her", Morrigan said. "I remember how that girl provoked trouble and cared not about how it would affect her."

She closed the book on her lap and leaned a bit. "But those are just memories. It is not what I see before me now. In fact, I'm not quite sure who or what it is I'm seeing and that makes it all more interesting."

Laryll actually blushed. "Stop picturing me as some kind of 'twister of fate'. It sounds scary when _you_ say those things."

Grinning in her usual manner, Morrigan rose up. "Has quite a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" she crooned and strutted to get some water from her satchel.

* * *

**Notes: _repertorio = repertoire_**


	27. Chapter 27

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**Oh how wrong I was when I thought that I would have plenty of time to write while staying in Finland!**

**Well, I've enjoyed the time I've been spending with my family and friends, so at least I've had a good reason to take a break in writing, kyah hah. And my, Dragon Age 3 is coming in fall 2014! I've got to speed up if I'm ever going to catch up...**

**Enjoy!**

"_She did it again."_

_ Laryll halted her steps when she was walking down the stairs of the Dusk. Two ladies were whispering in the main hall, eating grapes and making silly gestures with their hands. At least it looked silly to her, so she crouched and took a peek through the wooden columns._

_ "No way", the lady with carrot hair gasped._

_ "I'm telling you, that _niña mimada_ is nothing but trouble", the other, a bit plump woman shook her head. "_Río de Oro _took her under her wing and spoils her."_

_ "That little boy's mother?"_

_ "Laryll wouldn't be here were it not for that woman. If I even attempt to discipline the kid, _Río de Oro_ interrupts and apologizes in her behalf. I'm amazed her own brat isn't wandering around as part of some thief gang or something."_

_ "What makes her so special that she can have her children do as they wish?"_

_ "Shh, quiet. Here she comes", the plump lady hushed and turned to face Zevran's mother._

_ "Good morning", she politely said, carrying a basket full of clean clothes._

_ The two ladies muttered a silent answer and quickly looked away, as if they were ashamed. The elf with golden hair shrugged and continued to hum a tune that Laryll instantly recognized._

_ She slowly rose up, careful not to make sounds. Due to her small body, the stairs didn't creak when she climbed them. Her mind of a child didn't fully understand everything adults talked about, but she had heard her name being mentioned and the look on the plump lady's face had been disgusted when she had said it. But as the soft, thick carpet tickled her toes, she realized that hadn't been the reason why she had discarded the idea of going downstairs._

_ Pouting, Laryll rubbed her eyes and made her way to her room. Her Antivan mother's song could still be heard despite the distance. Were it Zevran, she was certain that he would just laugh at being insulted and come up with something witty to counter with._

_ Her tiny hand curled around the doorknob and she sighed. She knew that someday, in the future, she would also be able to endure awful words directed at her. One day, she could still gaze while smiling at a person who would challenge her._

_ As she entered her luminous chamber, the first item she spotted was the dagger she had received from Zevran. It brought a memory of something he had told Laryll when she had cried a lot._

_ "Feels like a dagger in my heart", her lips moved, repeating her friend's words._

_ That was exactly how she felt after listening to the plump lady._

0-0-0-0-0

"A dragon!" Laryll shouted, drawing her blades.

"It's only a drake", Morrigan corrected her and began to prepare a spell.

"Doesn't change the fact that it can eat you alive", Alistair sneered, lifting his shield.

"Are you trying to talk this thing to death or are you actually going to do some damage?" Iselda growled.

"But dear Warden, don't you know that sarcasm and humor can bolster one's battle spirit?" Zevran stated.

"Your 'dear' is about to get turned into a pile of burned bones if you don't move your ass and help her!" Iselda let go of her sword to wave the assassin away.

Before Laryll could tell the Warden that she was capable enough to look after herself, the drake roared, its voice piercing the air. The redhead tried to cover her ears, but couldn't muffle them from the noise. Her hands was shaking and the roar still rang in her head, attempting to find an escape hole. She squeezed her daggers, refusing to release her grip. She could sense the creature approaching and getting ready to dig its teeth in her flesh, but the ache made it impossible for her to open her eyes.

As she calmly got herself together, the drake in front of her howled from pain and retreated a little. Laryll blinked several times to get rid of her blurry vision and finally saw a dagger sticking out of the enemy's muzzle. The weapon was simple and there was a small crack on the edge which told her that it wasn't Zevran's.

She saw a glimpse of him behind the drake, evading the tail that was like a whip with sharp needles. The plan became clear to her when she noticed Alistair and Iselda who provoked the dragon and deflected its claws. Moistening her upper lip, she waited for the opportunity to charge.

The drake stopped for one fatal moment to collect its breath, black smoke leaking out of its mouth. Zevran's blades glinted when he dashed forward. With a little jump, he reached the creature's spine and sank his daggers deep in its body. It stirred the drake up, rage written all over its dark pupils, but the assassin wasn't going to fall from its rampage.

Laryll knew Zevran couldn't let go and strike again. She ran and quickly glanced at Morrigan. "Slow it down a bit!"

Her wishes were noted and a chilling energy flew past her, hitting the drake's leg and freezing it. It was left dazed for a second which served Laryll well. She charged as fast as she could and leaped, mimicking the Antivan's attack earlier. As her daggers burrowed near the opponent's chest, the dragon's head lowered as a reaction, arching its long neck and shrieking.

"Strike now!" she commanded the Wardens, dodging the drake's strong jaw that tried to grab her.

Letting out a strengthening cry, Iselda brought her sword down, cutting the creature's neck. Blood stained her armor and she stepped aside when Alistair made the finishing blow, nearly chopping the head off entirely. They shifted and the drake collapsed. The elves released their blades and hopped off before they would get crushed under the heavy corpse.

"I prefer the miniature ones", Alistair huffed, searching for a cloth to clean his sword with.

Laryll chuckled and took a look around. They had traveled deep into the caverns which they had accessed through the ruined temple and Iselda had immediately decided to look for the shortest way out in order to avoid fights that would slow them down. The sound of dripping water echoed everywhere and every time she stayed to admire the bluish stalactites jutting from the ceiling, a cold drop would dribble on her nose. The rogue wasn't sure what it was she smelled, except the scent of blood.

While exploring further, the party kept an eye on the shadows which were perfect hiding spots for the cultist assassins. Zevran had snorted and totally scorned the ones who had attacked them before the drake. He had told Laryll that these assassins lacked finesse and order. They were taught to kill without a proper reason, something the Crows would never do. He rarely spoke of the training he went through, but it was the first time he could be truly proud of his skills. Not because he was way better than the cultists, but because he was no mindless murderer like them and Laryll could understand that. The vial of stunning poison in her pocket signified that she accepted Zevran as he was and wished to learn more.

Her legs were tired from all the walking and she thanked the gods for the brief breaks they took. She was quite used to the darkness by now, although the caverns were rather bright for an underground complex. Clearly the cultists were here often, judging from the torches hanging on some walls and a bloody altar the party had discovered earlier.

Laryll sat on a large rock when she was given a chance to rest. The waterskin in her hands popped when opened and she took a nice gulp. A trickle of precious liquid escaped her thirsty mouth, wetting the bare skin on her chest.

"Spare some for me too", Zevran laughed when he joined the redhead, taking a seat beside her.

The rogue's glare turned into a smile and she passed the water to the Antivan. "You have your own, you know."

"Doesn't taste as good as yours, _mi rub__í_", Zevran winked and drank.

Grinning, Laryll glanced at the Wardens, who were sharing some rations and her lips curved even more when Iselda teased Alistair by holding a piece of dried meat with her teeth, forcing him to snatch it away with his mouth. She couldn't tell was the Cousland blushing from embarrassment or from joy.

"Zev?" she called.

"_S__í?_" the assassin answered, rubbing a green apple before taking a bite of it.

"When do you suppose we're going to get the kind of moment we had in Denerim for that one night? Just us, with no Blight, no nightmares or any life-threatening danger knocking on the door."

Zevran looked at Laryll, but she evaded his gaze. She stared forward, into nothingness, breathing so silently that she could hear her heart pounding slowly inside her.

"What would you like to do when that time comes?" the assassin asked.

The question stunned Laryll a bit, probably because she was waiting for a flirty response from the blond elf. He knew better than her that it wasn't just his company she longed for. Without the Blight, she could have more than a soft bed and Zevran by her side, stroking her skin and landing gentle kisses on her neck.

She lifted her eyes, laughing a little. "Could we go visit Antiva?"

Zevran smirked. "Sure, but a lot has changed since you left. Even the Dusk doesn't look the same it used to."

"What about _mam__á's _grave?"

The Antivan was quiet.

"Wasn't she buried in the Antiva City?" Laryll's voice was low.

"Yes. At the cemetery near the Red Bird brothel. Before I came to Ferelden, I took care of her grave every week. Brought new flowers, cleaned the stone where her name is written. It was the most beautiful resting place, perfect for her."

Laryll couldn't remember the brothel Zevran had mentioned. The memories of the streets she ran in as a kid were blurry, which made her want to return to her childhood home even more. She couldn't allow herself to forget.

"I'll take you there, as soon as this Archdemon lies dead", the assassin promised.

"The weeds have certainly overgrown by now, so you need to go back", Laryll laughed.

"_We_ need to go back, _mi amora_", Zevran fingered a tress of the rogue's hair and kissed it. "I'm not going anywhere without you anymore. Remember that."

0-0-0-0-0

Iselda was cursing every moment she had to spend in the caverns. Not because of the fights, but because every minute felt like time wasted. She had kept assuring Alistair that Arl Eamon would survive and was happy for every smile she had received from him as a response, but she didn't know how long she could repeat those words. Her father had once said that if a man repeats a lie often enough, it becomes a reality. He hadn't told her what would happen if a man would believe too hard in something. Would that hope become a tragedy?

She picked up some voices up ahead and slowed her steps, her hand touching the chilly wall. It reminded her of the basement in the Cousland estate and the cook, lady Garnet she had been called despite her old age and wrinkled face. Ignoring her aching back and swollen legs, lady Garnet had stubbornly climbed down the stairs to the basement where all the vegetables and dry foodstuff had been stored, refusing any help offered. Iselda had had a habit of carrying supplies from the stock little by little, in order to ease lady Garnet's task. She had been very cautious and was quite sure that the gentle cook hadn't noticed, because the lady was the kind of woman who wouldn't be quiet if things weren't flowing according to her routines.

Iselda's stomach rumbled from hunger. Thinking about her favorite cook's pies and homemade mead only made it worse and she would take a thousand hits in her face if that brought lady Garnet back.

The ominous scene before her suggested that the time for food wasn't going to be soon. A tall man with a vicious-looking battleaxe was leering at the Warden's group, his arms crossed over his chest and two armored men standing beside him. The obvious leader wasn't stirring a bit as Iselda approached, giving her an impression that the man wasn't going to attack. She still gestured her friends to be on their guard, especially when she saw a couple of mages behind the soldiers.

"Stop, wanderers!" the tall man ordered. "Only the true believers may pass through here!"

Iselda frowned. "Are you willing to parley? I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours."

Exchanging glances with his companions, the leader looked directly in the Warden's eyes, rubbing his brown beard. "I am Father Kolgrim, the mentor of the true Disciples of Andraste", he bowed a little. "This is the home of our faith and your ignorance creates a harmful presence. You have slain many of Her children and I won't tolerate more."

"We are here for the Ashes, nothing else", Alistair cut in, rather irritated. "Let us proceed and we will leave Haven once our business is done."

Kolgrim swiftly shifted his gaze at the former templar. "Your 'business' favors Andraste's former, immortal self. It cannot be allowed."

"I don't follow", Iselda said and was slowly getting nervous.

The leader smiled proudly and spread his arms. "Our mighty Andraste has risen more powerful and radiant than ever! Her love is stronger than any bond between a husband and wife and Her wisdom has awakened us from our slumber of chaos. Nothing stands in Her way and nothing equals Her!"

Iselda balled her fists and they were trembling from repulsion. Although the Warden wasn't a religious type, she knew many who had been in Highever. The man before her was spitting on their memory with his preaching.

"However", Kolgrim's shoulders slumped, "there is one thing that haunts Her and bans full divinity from Her."

"The Ashes, no?" Zevran said.

"Correct. You may be in the dark, but perhaps fate guided you here, to receive Andraste's blessing through a test of faith."

Even if Alistair wasn't a templar anymore, he took a deep breath to gather his thoughts he was about to launch at the Father, but halted when he saw Iselda's face. She was pale and did not blink in order to hide her fury. It wasn't just the mockery of Andraste that made her so.

The images of burning roofs and screaming people conquered her mind. The whiff she had come to known as the scent of betrayal floated in the air she was forced to smell. One of the mages in the cave looked a bit like Fergus, but his features were gradually fading away, just like her brother was.

Instead of facing Father Kolgrim's eyes, it was Howe that stared at her, like she was a lesser being and didn't understand.

"What would this trial contain?" she asked in a very low voice, her eyes directed at the ground.

"As long as the Ashes exist, we cannot enter Andraste's temple", Kolgrim explained. "You are still devoted to Her former self, so you shouldn't be forbidden from going there. I will gift you a vial of Her holy blood, Her very own life essence. Pour it on top of the Ashes so that Andraste may be truly reborn. She will reward you by welcoming you among her children and providing you her protection during these troubled times. Do this, and you have proven yourself. If you don't, I'm afraid we, in Andraste's name, cannot permit you to leave."

The moment of serenity was soon followed by Iselda's laughing that confused everyone. She couldn't tell what kind of laugh it was, so many emotions were mixed together inside her. To her, it sounded creepy and insane, but perhaps that was what she needed now, when all the anger and sorrow were trying to strangle her.

"Iselda?" Laryll carefully called when seeing that Alistair was too stunned to do so. She didn't get a reply and glanced at the male Warden, ordering him to do his part.

Alistair's hand glided towards Iselda, but before he could touch her, she jerked her head up and her shrunk pupils were glaring at Kolgrim.

"You must think I'm stupid, 'Father'", she snorted. "I value my life, despite everything I've experienced, so the Maker's wrath for disgracing his wife's remains is the least I'd wish right now. I have a man I love, friends I can trust and a task to fulfill. Your actions are a threat to all I have." She unsheathed her massive blade and by gripping it with one hand, she pointed it at the man. "There's no need for trials. I challenge you. Let us see which one of us is protected by godly power."

"No, don't!" was all that Alistair could cry out.

Iselda's stance persisted as she waited. Her comrades were well aware of her intentions. If her challenge was accepted, only she would had to fight, which could win them time. As she eyed the opponent, her confidence wasn't faltering. The battleaxe strapped on Kolgrim's back looked magical and was certainly better quality than Iselda's sword, yet she wasn't afraid.

All she had to do was to picture Howe's face before her.

Obviously angered by the Warden's words, Kolgrim remained calm and fixed his posture. "Alright. If you win, my brethren won't harm you nor your allies. You are free to go, even without Her approval. And if I win...?"

Iselda's expression was both cold and sad. "I will acknowledge your god and do as you wish. You may behead me after I've taken the vial to the Ashes. And you will let my friends leave."

"To the death then?"

"I doubt you would let me live after insulting your deity."

Kolgrim smirked slightly and nodded at his soldiers. They joined the mages and Iselda's party stayed at the entrance of the cave. There was plenty of space for the combatants and neither was a spellcaster which ensured that the spectators weren't going to be targeted by spells. Although, Morrigan was squinting at the mages opposite her, not sure if they would play by the rules.

The pouch belt Iselda took off didn't even reach the ground near her companions before Alistair grabbed her hand gently, squeezing it from fear. "Please, don't do this", he begged.

"I can handle myself", Iselda gave a faint smile.

"I know you can. But still, it's...unfair. You shouldn't fight alone, that's what you told me after Duncan's death."

Iselda was tranquil for a while and noticed Laryll's concerned look before the elf turned away, her index twitching funny. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kolgrim making a few swings with his battleaxe and it seemed the weapon cut the air itself. It was a simple duel, but it meant more to her. She couldn't wipe away the images of Highever's destruction once they had emerged so strong. Kolgrim wasn't Howe and he hadn't hurt her, only her memories.

But it mattered not. Iselda didn't have time to tell Alistair that she had other, selfish reasons for challenging the Father. She didn't have enough courage. All she had was hatred and she had to do something before it would consume her.

She finished tightening her bootlaces and rose up. Her finger landed on Alistair's lips and she grinned. "No need for a goodbye kiss, 'cause I'll be back soon." She gave a quick peck on the Warden's cheek and marched to Kolgrim.

Brushing the kissed spot, Alistair mumbled an answer only he could hear and sighed quietly, watching at Iselda's swaying ponytail.

"She'll be okay", Laryll suddenly said beside the former templar.

"Huh?" Alistair blurted.

"She promised to return and Iselda won't break her promises."

"Oh...right..." A hint of relief flowed through Alistair, but he couldn't help but note that the tense redhead kept scratching her nose and he was sure that she wasn't even aware of it.

Only rain and thunder could make the atmosphere more sinister. Iselda and Kolgrim had their weapons bared, hungry for some enemy blood. While the Father was going to fight for his honor and faith, Iselda was scooping strength from personal causes which was a bit alien to her. She always put her feelings aside in order to shield those important to her. Her father had taught her that every battle should have its reason, be it a political assassination or a revenge. That was what separated humans from beasts. Kolgrim wasn't going to fall easily, because he was going to fight just like Iselda's father had instructed.

As for herself, all she felt now was rage like a crazy mabari. She would swing her sword because she _had _to. Her mind wouldn't get peace if she didn't fight Kolgrim right here. She wanted to think that it was for the safety of her friends, but that would be a lie. It was all about herself.

Her thumping heart attempted to stop her, like Alistair had. Normally, she would heed the warnings her own body gave her, but today was different. Today, not even Dog's whining next to Alistair couldn't make her turn back.

"Are you ready?" one of the soldier's asked.

Kolgrim nodded and Iselda copied him.

"Then begin!" the soldier waved his arm and stepped back.

The battle started sooner than anyone could have expected. Kolgrim roared like a monster and red tiny things like bright flames appeared all over him for a second. He charged without hesitation, his axe prepared and concentration shining from his eyes.

But Iselda was frozen. Her mouth was gaping and the sword in her hands felt like a stick. A man was rushing towards her, those tiny flames cutting him every now and then, but he didn't bleed. He was getting dangerously close, but Iselda couldn't move. Not even when the odd, sharp things licking Kolgrim nearly touched her, emitting painful aura.

"Move, Iselda!" Alistair and Laryll shouted together.

It snapped the Warden back to the reality and she tumbled out of Kolgrim's reach, his battleaxe cutting a small rock in half when brought down. Panting heavily, she counterattacked clumsily, still perplexed of what had happened. When her blade was dodged and she was within Kolgrim's personal space, a stinging unknown pain struck her, causing her to curl and groan.

"Iselda!" Alistair yelled in horror.

Kolgrim was too fast and his weapon targeted Iselda's head. She gasped and tried to evade, but got cut deep from her shoulder to her chest, barely missing her heart. Swallowing cries of pain, she figured that the enemy had some kind of ability that wounded those who dared to get too close to him, so she got out of his power's range. She noticed that the same flames were also affecting the Father, but he didn't seem to care at all. His nose was bleeding, but the damage he was taking was only making him stronger.

"Do you see the might Andraste herself has bestowed upon us?" Kolgrim gestured at himself. "We are invincible and soon we will become immortal. No human, elf or anyone can harm us as we are under Her tender protection!"

Iselda shuddered and held her injury for a brief moment. Crimson tainted the handle of her sword when she grabbed it again. Knocking the opponent prone was out of question. He was so large that it would be as impossible as it was to wrestle with a qunari, especially Sten. She had to get in the melee and endure the mysterious aura of pain Kolgrim was sustaining, though he most likely resisted it far better than Iselda.

She closed her lids for a fraction of a second and when she opened them, it wasn't the Father but Howe in front of her. Howling, she dashed forward. Kolgrim looked at her like she had gone mad and readied his axe, his knuckles turning white. He swung it when he thought it would hit, but Iselda surprised him by jumping in the air. She gave her opponent no time to react and put everything behind a single strike.

Kolgrim grunted when Iselda gave him identical wound with hers, but didn't retreat like the Warden had. Their weapons clashed and generated a spark when neither wasn't willing to get overwhelmed by the other.

Gritting her teeth hard, Iselda cried once more and broke the tie when she managed to push the battleaxe aside. She seized the opportunity and thrust her blade, still ignoring the pain Kolgrim's aura caused in her body. The man shifted, but got his side injured, leaving spatters of blood on the ground where he had stood. Iselda was grateful for the break when Kolgrim took few steps back.

"Andraste", he muttered, leaning his forehead against the pommel of his axe, "punish this foul creature, show her the hell you once had to go through!"

Iselda wasn't going to let the Father recuperate and charged him. Death of her parents and her brother's family enhanced her and her sword sought the enemy's vital points like an eagle. Simultaneously, she hoped the fight would last and stop. She hadn't seen enough blood, but behind her eyes was a figure of the daughter of Couslands who was shivering and disappearing into darkness.

As she reached Kolgrim, her thoughts were too occupied to realize that the aura of pain had vanished. Her attack failed and the Father seemed to move even faster than before. His axe met Iselda's blade with such force that the Warden couldn't keep him away. She escaped the situation, but not without getting a fresh wound on her right arm. A surge of power cascaded inside her and she was able to cut Kolgrim's leg, leaving him limping for a while.

But the man's stamina was unbelievable now that he wasn't sustaining his strange ability. Iselda was being pushed back by numerous blows she had to deflect with her sword. Ignoring the shouts of Alistair and Laryll was getting testing, let alone the wet nasty wound on her chest. Her hands were aching from holding the sword and she knew that if her concentration was broken, she would be dead immediately.

_I can't die yet, not while Howe breathes_, she thought, making a 'tsk' sound when Kolgrim's battleaxe took a tiny piece of the edge of her blade.

She saw how the Father was preparing to swing his axe against her ribs. Narrowing her eyes, she planned to shield herself by moving her sword to her side, the tip of the blade pointing at the ground. Her whole body felt the impact when Kolgrim's weapon hit hers. It was a miracle that she could halt him.

"Andraste _will_ have your life!" the man bellowed and with a loud roar, his axe continued its path.

"No!"

Iselda wasn't sure if it had been Alistair or Laryll or all of her comrades who had clamored so terrified. Her mind went blank and her mouth was full of thick liquid that couldn't be just spit. Cold, sharp metal in her flesh gave her chills and her sword was too light. Warm blood ran along her neck when she couldn't keep it inside her anymore.

With staggering steps, she retreated after Kolgrim had removed his axe. When she glanced at her sword, shock came over her. It had been cut in half, from the spot where the opponent had damaged the edge earlier. None of her organs had been punctured, but she was bleeding way too much. She couldn't believe how strong her enemy was. He had succeeded at finding an area that wasn't armored, either by luck or by skill.

No matter the disadvantage Iselda was at, she wasn't dispirited. Everything looked obscure, she had lost her weapon and her hourglass was soon empty. Spitting some more blood, she improved her grip and glared, refusing to show weakness.

"To the death, then", Kolgrim scoffed and ridiculed Iselda by standing still, waiting for her to strike.

_I will not die before you, Howe!_

A fierce battle-cry hastened Iselda's dash. She heard the gasps of the others, the cry of the man she loved and the bark of her loyal mabari. None of them could stop her. Instead, they bolstered her. She felt new strength in her legs and the broken blade was like a part of her she couldn't let go of. But nothing seemed to be enough. Her energy was being drained quickly and Kolgrim was too far away. Voices became unclear, the cave was slowly shrinking and the opponent looked like a pillar of smoke.

Her very own soul was patting on her shoulder, whispering 'it's okay, you've done enough' to her.

_Alistair..._

Suddenly, she felt like a flash of lightning had struck her. Kolgrim was already close and had taken a stance to finish the Warden. Iselda growled and ran towards him, holding her breath. The Father swung his axe, certain of his victory. Time slowed down and Iselda saw her doom from the corner of her eye.

She fell prone, barely evading the battleaxe. On the ground, she rolled behind Kolgrim who was quite dazed that the fight wasn't over yet. During her movement, Iselda cut the man's tendon and remained crouching. Kolgrim shrieked from agony and his damaged leg failed to support him so he fell on one knee.

That was what Iselda had expected and she rose to wind her arm around the enemy's neck. She brought her useless sword close to Kolgrim's face, drawing a bit of blood when it poked his cheek.

The Father was immobilized and not getting air well. He didn't squirm nor turn his head to look into Iselda's eyes. "To...the death", he simply said.

Only the emotions of hate and disgust could make Iselda bring an end to the fight. As soon as she moved her arm out of the way, her sword slit the man's throat. She released him and Kolgrim's body collapsed in a pool of his blood.

No-one dared to break the silence. No-one approached the combatants.

The blade dropped from Iselda's hand and she was trying to remember how to breathe. She turned to face Alistair to ask if he could help her, but managed only to catch a glimpse of him before all the lights went out.

* * *

**Notes: Yes, Kolgrim _was_ that hard to defeat! Bastard didn't seem to fall no matter what when I played, hah.**

**_niña mimada = spoiled brat_  
**


	28. Chapter 28

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**I was thinking, should I put all the chapters together at some point, making them one looong, well, file to read (but still divided by chapters in text)? The site's system is quite weird, making me 'update' each chapter after 90 days. I could finish this quest line and then put all the chapters in one volume of sorts, rewrite and edit some parts and then upload the story again (all the lovely reviews would be gone though, sob...).**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

_I...I can't run... My legs aren't obeying me any longer._

_ But I can't stay here either. It's too close. Too close._

_ And it has the ghosts of my family with it!_

_ No! Go away! Don't come near me!_

_ That horrible scream again. Are my...are my ears okay? Where's my sword...?_

_ A demon, a gargantuan figure of horror and despair. How am I supposed to defeat that? It has killed so many, brought so much sorrow. My friends, my love. It has killed me._

_ But I can't...can't give up. It's too scary. I don't want it anywhere near me!_

_ Disappear, you demon! Leave me to my grief!_

0-0-0-0-0

"Iselda, wake up. Iselda!" Laryll shook the Warden carefully.

The warrior's eyes flew open and she inhaled sharply. A sudden sting of pain made her groan and she did her best not to move, because it only hurt more. Everything was blurry for a while and at first, she couldn't recognize the voice that had called her. She had a gut feeling that she had been in the darkness for some time, because even the dim light in the cavern was too bright for her.

Calming her breath, Iselda glanced around and met Laryll's worried gaze. "Where are we?" she whispered.

"Not far from the exit", the elf grinned a little, but her expression changed quickly. "We're not taking another step forward until you've rested properly, so it's no use to complain."

She reached for her waterskin and helped Iselda to moisten her lips. Even a bit warmed water tasted good after the battle, but as soon as the Warden remembered that, she winced and looked over Laryll's shoulder, trying to locate the others.

"Did...did Kolgrim keep his word?"

Laryll smiled faintly. "Alistair and the rest are sleeping", she guessed the true meaning of Iselda's question. "It was very hard to persuade him to let me take the watch and keep an eye on you."

"Are we still in danger?" the Warden asked, confused.

"You had quite a high fever and Morrigan couldn't heal the wound on your side completely. I know that your dreams haven't been enjoyable, judging from all that rolling and squirming."

Iselda bit her lip and lay down, staring at the ceiling. Her nightmare had awoken her, but it wasn't the only thing that tangled her mind. The fight with Kolgrim had been the hardest yet and she was glad to have had the opportunity to face such a strong opponent. However, her reasons for the challenge had been terribly wrong. Selfish thoughts had replaced her clear code of solving various situations. She was not proud of her victory at all.

When she took a glimpse of the redhead, to her surprise the elf stayed quiet, not demanding any kind of explanation. Iselda felt unfair, because she herself had forced her friend to open up after sensing the pain tormenting her. Laryll wasn't exactly the type to leave things hanging in the air, but now she just sat beside the Warden, rubbing her hands together and giving Iselda all the time she required to form her concerns into words.

"I killed a man", Iselda finally said, not facing Laryll's eyes.

"Kolgrim was a madman and you didn't have a choice", the rogue replied.

"No, it's not that. I didn't just kill him. I _murdered_ him."

Laryll lifted her brow, forgetting the cold for a moment.

"His very existence annoyed me", Iselda continued. "I was tired and stressed, which made me recall the events of the massacre of my family. Kolgrim only happened to be on my way and his mockery towards Andraste made it worse. I knew he couldn't be allowed to live, but I didn't kill him to protect those dear to me or to end his cult. I murdered him to feed the rage inside me, the rage I shouldn't show to anyone else than the man who betrayed my father."

She sighed. "I didn't realize how powerful Kolgrim was. The only way I could beat him was to picture him as Howe which augmented my hatred. I had no other reason to kill the Father than my own selfish needs. I could have lied to him to do the deed and run for the rest of my life or I could have trusted you all to fight him and his soldiers with me. But I didn't. I simply wished to bathe in blood to push the memories of Highever back."

As she spoke, Iselda understood herself even less and less. Laryll had chosen an easy, yet the most ineffective method to deal with her personal agony. She had curled into a ball like a hedgehog, hiding under the shied of needles so that no-one couldn't touch her and see how weak she was. Iselda admired how freely Alistair could speak about himself and had followed his example. She could never hide like Laryll had.

Yet there she had been, unable to tell Alistair the truth. Bitter taste of regret filled her mouth, giving her unpleasant shivers. She rarely let her past keep her on the leash but now when it had, she wasn't going to escape the punishment. Her arms were spread to receive the blow of her actions, figuratively speaking.

"But because of you, only Kolgrim had to fall", Laryll reminded the Warden. "You spared us of the damage his followers would have done."

Iselda gave a laughing snort. "Yeah, and look what good that did. Just how much have my wounds halted us? A day? Two?"

"We still have time. I haven't lost hope and so shouldn't you."

"I haven't, my friend", Iselda smirked. "I'm just angry at myself, but it'll pass. In fact, I'm thankful to Kolgrim."

"For what possible reason?" Laryll wondered.

"For showing me the consequences of fighting with only my eyes open."

With an approving grin, the elf squeezed Iselda's hand and rose up, saying that she had to put some more wood in their fire. The Warden nodded and cautiously moved her numb legs a bit, making a wry face when her injury ached.

She lifted her arm, her palm resting on her forehead. Kolgrim's death had provided her a new solution she hadn't even considered before: giving Howe a chance to explain himself. She still didn't care what his reasons were and knew the man had discarded his honor, but after the encounter with the cult leader, Iselda had become aware of her fate if she were to do the same again.

The rage inside her would change her forever. She would be no different than Howe or anyone who killed for themselves.

Traitors always faced a bad end, no matter what. Iselda's enemy was no exception. The Couslands would be avenged and she didn't need to destroy her soul in the process. Howe would die by her hand because of his crime, not because Iselda couldn't live in the same world with him.

She turned her head and narrowed her eyes in suspicion when Laryll returned, carrying a very familiar axe with her. "Isn't that...?" she began.

"The Father's weapon", the elf answered, placing it on the ground near the Warden. "The cultists wished for you to have it."

"Just when I was starting to feel better and atone, you bring this and tell me to wield it?"

"Your sword can't harm anyone anymore, remember?"

Reluctantly, the warrior touched the metal of the battleaxe. It was cool and her fingers found no cracks or bumps. She wasn't mage, but could feel that the axe was enchanted in some way. Her blood had been wiped away from it, but as she tried to grip the hilt, a sensation of being struck with it came over her, forcing her to let go abruptly. With a quick final inspection, she noticed words snaking around the weapon and figured it was a prayer of sorts, for Kolgrim's resurrected Andraste.

Iselda chuckled. "The Maker surely won't look upon me kindly for using something like this."

"I'm certain that slaying the Archdemon and saving the world will be a sufficient atonement for Him", Laryll sneered.

When Iselda met the rogue's curved lips, she had to mimic her. "I guess so." She took another glimpse of the axe. "I shall get better quickly then in order to start practicing."

"Practice what?"

"I've never used a battleaxe before."

0-0-0-0-0

Walking towards the light had never caused such a delightful surge of energy in Laryll's body before. The sun was too shy to reveal itself, but she preferred the after-smell of nightly rain and the breeze of natural wind against her skin. Fresh air purified her of fatigue and she even dared to drop her guard for a short moment.

A large area ahead reeked of ambush, but Laryll was skeptical. If enemies were waiting for them, where would they be hiding? There was a small ruined structure, but she couldn't see no-one and she had the advantage of higher ground position. No trees or bushes grew in the area and the small hills wouldn't provide enough cover. The mountains were too steep, so if anyone jumped down from there, it would certainly be a surprise but the enemy would also be left with broken bones. The silence was too inconvenient and Laryll wished to hold her daggers before taking another step.

"Looks clear to me", Alistair said after glancing around.

Laryll agreed, but before she could even lift her leg, Zevran put his hand on her shoulder.

"Wait", he told her and seemed to be listening to something with concentration.

Her eyelids fluttering, Laryll cocked an ear to a strange low noise that slowly got louder. She felt her heart pounding nervously and attempted to locate the source of such eerie sound. Soon she realized that it resembled flapping wings and a piercing shriek confirmed her thoughts.

A huge dragon flew past the group, headed to a high cliff near the temple which they were going to enter. The spikes on its back cut the air and another roar exposed a mouth full of teeth like little knives. Everyone's breaths were taken away and they had crouched a bit as a reflex to seeing the creature. It probably hadn't noticed the party or it didn't pay attention to small beings. Laryll truly hoped the dragon had just ignored them and that it wouldn't bother to waste its strength to deal with her and her companions.

The majestic creature landed, its tail sweeping the ground and causing rubble to fall down. Once it had cleared enough space, it lay down, stretching its muscular limbs and yawning royally. The hanging tail wiggled a few times before stopping, looking like a black tear on the rock.

"Andraste, I presume?" Zevran broke the silence.

"They may call it whatever they want, but 'tis a dragon nonetheless", Morrigan snorted, quite disappointed.

Alistair glared at the creature, a hint of anger glimmering in his eyes. "What kind of magic was involved for Kolgrim and his followers to get so much power from a dragon?"

Laryll was about to change the subject, knowing that Iselda didn't wish to speak about the Father, but her warrior friend was faster. "It doesn't matter, the cult has been dealt with", the Warden's shoulders slumped.

"What about the dragon?" Alistair asked. "Can we just leave it here? What if it attacks nearby villages?"

"Only the Arl matters now", Iselda snapped back. "Fighting such a monster would needlessly stall us."

"But-"

"Alistair, it wasn't the dragon that hurt me. I'm thankful for your concern, but we must move forward."

Iselda's words sealed the former templar's lips and he mumbled a fragile apology. His expression made the female Warden grin and she pinched his nose before forcing the others to follow her. Left dumbfounded, Alistair turned to face Laryll who was very difficult to read.

"Give her time and she will talk about it", the elf assured. She knew better than anyone that the more important person, the more impossible it became to tell things which could sting the heart like an arrow.

Alistair sighed and Laryll noted how he eyed the battleaxe strapped on Iselda's back. To him it was the blade that almost took the life of his loved one, so letting it protect that woman couldn't be an easy chunk to swallow. The rogue didn't believe in curses cast by weapons' previous owners, but wouldn't be too shocked if Kolgrim's axe didn't obey the Warden at first.

She made haste to Zevran's side and refused when he offered to hold her hand in case she was too scared to walk past the snoring dragon. Despite being quite relaxed, she couldn't help but take a glimpse of the monster every now and then. Its deep inhaling could barely be heard, making Laryll imagine how large its lungs had to be and what devastation it could create with one breath of fire. Never had she battled a dragon and she cringed upon the thought of the Archdemon, that also was one, standing in front of her.

Her eyes met Iselda's, who smirked and continued walking towards the temple. The Warden had told what needed to be done in order to defeat the Blight, but the redhead hadn't heard much about slaying the Archdemon itself. Mages, Dalish elves and dwarves were supposed to come to their aid according to some ancient treaties, but obstacles seemed to be gathering everywhere Laryll and her friends were headed to. Uldred and the Arl's poisoning were just the beginning. She had no idea what to expect when they would travel to the northern mountains and to the elves who, to her understanding, didn't often welcome outsiders.

Laryll would consider it strange if even Iselda didn't know the details of the next step after collecting allies. On the other hand, during the time she had spent with the Warden, she had come to realize the importance of protecting the weak and doing what must be done, even if the result was unpredictable and concealed under a thick curtain of dangers and pain. The Circle Tower and its ordeals had clearly shown how events could have a drastic turn. Yet Laryll hadn't fled, but fought her way out.

Without Iselda's influence, she would have succumbed to Sloth's illusion and let the image of Zevran's mother embrace her, which most likely would have had a lethal effect.

"_Mi bella_, you are radiating", Zevran said, amused when his gaze met the rogue's baffled stare.

Laryll dropped her hood, looking wistful. "I remembered Sloth", she said. "I wondered if...if _mam__á_ ever encountered him."

"Not to my knowledge", the assassin looked at the sky for a moment.

"'That woman isn't here now' is what he said. What does that mean?"

"Well, maybe she wasn't aware of Sloth, but was still in his way. Honestly, I can't say what he was talking about. I'm just glad that he's dead."

_He's correct_, Laryll thought. Pondering on Sloth's words wasn't worth of her attention now that he had been slain. If any other demon schemed to come after her, she wouldn't be alone and wouldn't show mercy. Her mouth had dried from picturing the demon in her head, so she grabbed her waterskin to remedy that.

After a long drink, her eyes stared ahead. "What did he want from me? I'm no mage, no demon could benefit from possessing me."

Recalling how frightened he had been when Connor had took control of Laryll, Zevran quickly shook the memory away and mussed the elf's hair. "I'm positive he was after your beauty, _mi amora_. Who could resist a goddess like yourself?"

Laryll snickered. "Many, I hope. I don't want to be that girl who's surrounded by drooling men."

"If that happens, I'll make sure those men won't have any eyes to admire you with."

Smiling heartily, Laryll snatched Zevran's hand, willing to take his earlier offer. "Luckily it was a Sloth demon. Who knows what you might have done to a creature that had bothered to lift all of his fingers."

The Antivan kissed the redhead's brow. "His fingers would have been the least of his worries."

Rubbing Zevran's palm gently, Laryll hadn't paid no mind to the beast lurking above her. The skin she touched was soft, but she could feel the almost invisible roughness as a result from holding daggers. She could be at ease by knowing that such hands stayed within her reach, a touch that could calm her like a hymn soothed a newborn baby.

They arrived at the ruined temple sanctified to Andraste and the redhead squinted, looking for anything that still would stand in their way. The wind had died and although hanging clouds boded a storm, not a drop of water had yet fallen down and even the sun managed to thrust a few rays of light through the thick gray curtain. A sensation of trouble tingled in her brain, making her be more wary than she had been while passing the dragon. Nothing indicated of a fight, but getting the Ashes couldn't be as effortless as it currently seemed.

High pillars led the group to the temple's double-doors and once seen up close, the decay and erosion which had damaged the structure became visible. It looked like the temple was slowly blending in with the mountains, only its front side standing strong. Soon one wouldn't be able to tell if going inside meant entering a building or a cave. Laryll chuckled when Iselda stated how foolish it was to hesitate, considering that she and her comrades hadn't thought twice when agreeing to be locked inside the Circle Tower with a bunch of crazy blood mages and demons.

The massive doors slid open quite swimmingly and the party was greeted by walls decorated with beautiful paintings and carvings. They had never climbed stairs as lazily before, because every picture demanded a more careful inspection. The patterns and colours all fit perfectly and the paintings weren't individual, but a part of whole.

As they advanced, the air in front of the door began to waver, forming a white figure. Laryll froze and glanced at Iselda, who furrowed but wasn't alarmed. The redhead first expected that the smoke would reveal Rebeka, but as they waited patiently, a human male stood before them, heavily armored and his chin proudly lifted. His presence didn't feel evil and Laryll couldn't think of him as an enemy. The man's pupils were big and his metal-covered fists weren't balled. Those signs were enough for the elf to loosen up a bit, although she still wondered how far Rebeka could have gotten.

"Welcome, pilgrims", the man spoke, his voice having a certain kind of reverberation in it.

"I am Iselda Cousland", Iselda introduced herself. "May I ask your name?"

"My name was lost years ago when I became the Guardian for Andraste's ashes. You may call me such, for that is who I am. I protect the Urn and the faith of those who still have it. It has been my task for a long time and it shall be until completed and until the Imperium lies defeated and crumbled."

One of the keeper's books in the alienage had been about the Tevinter Imperium Laryll recalled. Reading about it had been her only choice, because the elves hadn't been interested in sharing their knowledge with her, most likely due to the fact that their kin was still used as slaves in Tevinter. The idea of a shackled servant sickened her and the old history book had been more like a horror story to her who also owned a pair of pointy ears.

In her opinion, the people in the alienage were no more free than those enslaved by the Tevinters.

"'Tis a fitting job for a spirit, to wait for an eternity", Morrigan said.

"I do not question my orders, no matter the situation", the Guardian replied, somehow evading the witch's gaze. "You are the first to arrive and for that, I have stayed here."

Perplexed, Laryll glimpsed at everyone around her, but none could explain how Rebeka, who supposedly had reached the temple before them, hadn't met the Guardian. The mage's magic was turning more and more alien and perhaps dangerous.

"If you've been here, then are you aware of the cultists who bow to a fake Andraste?" Alistair sounded concerned.

The shimmering man stared at a white marble statue in the hall, a melancholy look on his face. "For centuries my brothers honored their vow to protect this place. They mourned and tried to accept the death of our beloved Andraste. In the end, their grief consumed them. They wished to forget. And so they did."

The focus in Iselda's and Alistair's eyes was unknown to Laryll. She had never been sure about whether to believe in the Maker or the elven gods. Her life had always been so full of twists that she couldn't understand why someone as powerful as a god would allow such things. She remained in silence, listening and learning about concepts which were foreign to her: fate, duty, honor.

Her head turned and she was met by Zevran's affectionate smile. Had someone divine and mighty brought him to her? Had someone ensured that he and she would love each other?

"But fear not, young one", the Guardian said. "I can feel that the beast those poor men call their deity is yet alive, but not a danger as long as sinners like Kolgrim do not expand. Only the Maker can punish them and one day, the creature will be gone from these mountains."

"See?" Iselda smirked at her fellow Warden. "I told you we can handle one dragon later."

The Guardian moved his gaze slowly and watched Iselda for a moment. Then he nodded slightly. "I sense that you aren't here for the cultists. You have a task that requires the Ashes."

"An important life depends on them", Iselda said.

"I see. I am merely a guardian and do not have the permission to take you to the Ashes. It is the Gauntlet that decides if you are worthy."

Iselda took a glimpse of the man's large, hard glove that screamed of pain if it was used as a weapon. "I hope you don't mean that gauntlet", she winced.

Everyone else snorted and almost burst into laugh while the Guardian was his stoic self. "The Gauntlet is a set of tests that look deep into your soul. Prove yourself a true pilgrim and you shall be rewarded with a small pinch of Adraste's remains."

After a short pause, the warrior pressed her lips together and inhaled. "Very well. I'm ready to face this trial."

"Even with all that regret in your heart?" the Guardian suddenly asked.

Iselda's eyes widened and she clenched her fist unintentionally. Laryll noticed how the Warden quickly opened her hand and tried to keep her calm, although her index fidgeted, like hers would twitch were she in Iselda's boots. At first she thought the man was referring to Kolgrim, but the shock she witnessed had been hidden for some time, only now showing clearly.

"You abandoned your parents, leaving them to be sentenced to die by Howe", the Guardian continued. "Do you wish that you would have stayed with them, to fall by their side?"

Before Alistair could tell the man to watch his tongue, the Guardian turned to face him. "Your sadness is the same as the one's you hold dear. Your mentor died in a battle that changed the world, saving you from the demise. You blame yourself for not joining him. You feel that you failed him."

"I-", Alistair snapped his mouth shut, tasting his words before saying them out loud. "I should have helped him. I should have turned my back to the tower of Ishal and join the battle. My place was there and if I had known Duncan's fate, I wouldn't have let him die like that." He took a sharp breath and calmly watched Iselda. "But I didn't turn around and now I'm glad that I didn't. I know Loghain can't escape forever and I certainly won't waste what Duncan gave me."

Laryll grind her teeth when she saw joy on Iselda's face for a second before it disappeared and the Warden lowered her head, diving back into her thoughts. She had heard enough and she stepped forward to defend her friend. "Is this also one of the tests or are you simply prying?"

"Laryll", Zevran gently grabbed the rogue's arm to pull her back, not comfortable of the Guardian's change of topic either.

"There's so much pain in you", the man's gaze captured Laryll's purple irises. "It is a delight that all the confusion and dejection swirling in you like a whirpool is being cured by something far more potent than the Ashes, but not even Andraste's love could save those who had to experience the mental torment of the battle."

The words sealed Laryll's mouth, just like the Warden had been shut down. Something kept pounding inside her, making her nauseous. All the strength she had gathered was being drained and all the old wounds that had been treated were being ripped open again. The Guardian hadn't insulted her nor said any names, but something in his voice made the memories hurt. Talking about an incident like Vaughan with Zevran had cleansed her, which was why she couldn't comprehend why just thinking of it was tearing her now apart.

But she wouldn't give in to the temptation of curling up and closing her eyes. She was not that person anymore. Any leftovers of her weakness and anguish were left in that room in Denerim, on that special night. She grasped that reminiscene and remembered Shianni, comforting herself with the thought of her cousin being safe at least.

"I believe you've said enough", Zevran's face was cold and annoyed and Laryll got worried when his grip of her arm loosened a bit, thinking that he was going to draw his dagger.

"You have found the piece of you that was lost for so many years, but the path hasn't been an easy one", the Guardian said to the Antivan. "Like a puppy, you sought out a place where you could grow strong in order to survive, to reclaim what was taken from you one day. You had comrades, love and trust and it was all crushed in front of you, making you hollow once more."

Laryll flinched and her fierce eyes targeted the Guardian. A test or not, she didn't like the way the man spoke to them. It was like he was poking them with a spear, searching for a vulnerable spot that could be used to discourage them.

A spear coated in the most efficient poison.

Yet to Laryll's amazement, the corners of Zevran's mouth were pulled up.

"That happened, yes", the assassin admitted. "And here I am, standing and breathing, no? You have an intriguing method of asking me a simple question. The answer to it is _s__í_. Despite everything, I am happy and wish to live." He caught Laryll's chin and smiled at the sight of her reddened cheeks. "_Para esa pieza por fin he encontrado_."

He released the embarrassed elf. "The past is past. It is the present and the future that matter to me", he glanced at Laryll and stroke her hair. "And this _diosa de puestas de sol_ of course."

A shudder ran along the redhead's spine and she quickly took Zevran's hand, a tress of her hair still tangled on it. "No, Zev", she breathed. "You mustn't forget. Not Rinna, not anything. Just look at me for example: how well did that tactic work for me?"

Aware of the Guardian and the others staring at her, Laryll coughed and rubbed her neck. "You have seen what happened to your brothers because they forgot about Andraste", she said to the man. "I'm not certain if I'd become a lunatic, but I have no desire to find out how I would end up if I forgot my past. I can carry my suffering and I'm not alone with my burden."

Laryll didn't consider herself any smarter than any other elf or human. A voice inside her sometimes whispered facts of guidance to her, but too often had she ignored the advice. She wasn't shy of giving volume to that voice when it could aid those dear to her and only during these occasions she realized the wisdom of it.

She hadn't guessed how hard it was to heed her own words.

"Indeed", the Guardian smiled, which for some reason made Laryll blush again. "And what of you, Warden?" he turned to Iselda.

She grinned, glancing the ceiling. "You want to know if I wanted to die with my parents?" Her eyes darted at the man. "Damn right I wanted to. I told my bleeding father to be quiet, that I wouldn't listen to him. I got mad at them and reminded them of Fergus' dead family. He kept telling Duncan to take me away from Highever and Duncan promised him that. Hell, I pointed my sword at the man's throat when he got on his feet, asking me to go with him."

When Laryll gazed at Alistair, the Warden was stunned from Iselda's confession. A bead of sweat ran along his temple and he wasn't blinking, not even once.

"Then, after much fighting and needless tears, I curled my fingers over my father's hand", Iselda made the gesture, "and swore to him that I would have Howe's head for the massacre. I swore I wouldn't rest until I had taken revenge. To this day, I had refused to understand the true meaning behind the expression my father gave me after I had said that. The last look in his tired, betrayed eyes..."

"And now you do?" the Guardian asked.

"He was...sad, disappointed. He knew what hunger for revenge would do to me. He trusted that saving me would be right, that I wouldn't become a killer. Were it not for Kolgrim, I would have rather let my rage devour me than extinguish it along with the images of the dead Couslands."

Laryll gulped when Iselda directed a smirk at her. "My friend here is right. We must not forget our past, but we are not dealing with it alone anymore. A backpack becomes surprisingly light when you remove some stones you don't need to carry."

The Guardian seemed satisfied, looking at the determined group and his figure started to change into white, glowing smoke. "Your hearts are valiant and brave. Not many could state the same things after such hardships. The Gauntlet prepares you to walk to the Ashes, but judging from what I've witnessed, nothing will stop you. Face the trials with peace in your souls and may the Maker and his bride bless you."

In an instant, the Guardian vanished and the door behind him flew open. A great hall lay ahead of the group and Laryll couldn't see any torches or any other sources of light, yet it wasn't completely dark inside. However, before she allowed herself to take another peek, she looked at Morrigan.

"Why didn't the Guardian question you?" she sounded puzzled.

"I gave her a message that it would be unhealthy for him", the witch chirped, tossing a lock of her hair over her shoulder.

"Message? Like telepathy?"

"Magic is a marvelous thing, isn't it?"

* * *

**Notes: **

**_Para esa pieza por fin he encontrado = For that piece I have finally found (straight from Google because I couldn't find sources to work on this sentence, sigh... If anyone wants to do a correct translation, I'd appreciate it!)_**

**___diosa de puestas de sol = goddess of sunsets_**


	29. Chapter 29

**Thank you for R/R/F/F!**

**I think that after the next chapter which is going to wrap up the Arl quest I'm going to do some rewriting in the earlier chapters and then put the whole story so far in one volume. I'm not going to remove this story and replace it with that volume however 'cause then those who've subscribed would have to do that again (if I'm right...). I think that once the whole story is complete (at least for the first game), I'll upload the volumes (no I don't know how many there are going to be). But for now, I keep updating like usual and put those edits I'll make in this 'file's' chapters as well.**

**Hope that was somehow understandable... Enjoy!**

Laryll was listening closely as one of the spirits in the first room of the Gauntlet gave them a riddle, just like the other spirits had before them. The reason she paid such attention to it wasn't because she was trying to solve it, but because she waited for Zevran to answer correctly, like he had with every single one till now.

The assassin let the ghost finish and then spoke one word. Again, it was right and after revealing his name and role in his previous life, the spirit vanished, its energy traveling to the locked door that now opened with all the riddles having been cleared.

"Do not look so surprised, _mi rub__í_", Zevran chuckled.

Laryll slightly turned up her nose. "I'm not. I could have solved these if you hadn't been faster than me."

"So tell me, why did you once get mad at me when I promised to lie for you if you could answer one simple riddle?"

Blushing, the redhead was doing her best at coming up with a reply while rubbing her thumb. "Because...because it was too complex? It doesn't mean I'm bad at those things, I was just a brat!"

"And look what _bella_ became of that brat", Zevran smirked and pressed his lips against Laryll's.

The kiss was over sooner than Laryll wished, but she was pleased to feel the hotness long after the assassin had excused himself and gone to the Wardens. The mission was priority and even Zevran had stated that separating it from their relationship wasn't too hard. Still, as the rogue watched silky strands of golden hair being tossed over the Antivan's shoulder, she longed for his company more than anything.

Her fingers curled and she sighed profoundly. The thought of being able to spend every single second of a day with her beloved after the Blight was the comfort that made her legs move. When the world would be safe from the Archdemon, she could run to Zevran and jump in his arms without anyone staring at her, without any obligations telling her to detain such emotions.

She envied how well Iselda was doing it. The Warden occasionally teased Alistair and whispered something into his ear, but they both had that look in their eyes Laryll didn't have. Every morning they woke up refreshed and happy smiles on their faces, whereas the elf's first thought was always when would the Blight end so that she could stay under the blanket with Zevran till the evening if possible. She wondered when could they begin to love each other without worries and disasters requiring their help.

The assassin called her name and waved her to hurry up. Laryll cooled her cheeks with her palms for a moment and scampered to the others. The way was open and her daydreaming wouldn't speed things up, like she desired. Her ruminative expression changed into a grin when her gaze met Zevran's.

The group approached the next room, but they were halted by similar flickering smoke the Guardian had emerged from. Certain that the armored man would meet them again, everyone was left stunned when it seemed to be a noble human male whose spirit formed before them.

He was speechless for a while, but his eyes were fixed on Iselda. Only then Laryll realized how pale the Warden had become. The warrior's chest was still from holding her breath and her mouth moved, like she was attempting to utter a name.

"You've changed, pup", the ghost smiled gently.

In an instant, Iselda drew her lips back and gulped hard before facing the man's stare again. "Father."

Alistair lifted his brow, but didn't gasp like Laryll did.

"I've been waiting for you, hoping to see you one last time", Bryce Cousland said.

Iselda winced. "I...I thought that... No, I can't...I can't say farewell to you again, father. I can't."

"I'm not here for that, pup."

Laryll had no idea what kind of rank Iselda's family once held, but in her opinion, the spirit had the face of a fair, yet a stern man. His youthful features weren't overshadowed by the thick gray hair and he wore an embroidered tunic. The redhead sensed how the same valor and self-confidence Iselda had exuded from the man, creating a threatening aura that was also warm and friendly.

When Alistair was about to take a step towards Iselda, Laryll grabbed him, not tearing her gaze off the spirit and meeting the Warden's glare. Her index twitched, but she trusted that her friend would get the message. Slowly, Alistair retreated and Laryll released his arm, her hand gliding back to her side.

Iselda closed her heavy eyelids for a moment. "Father, I-"

"Come closer, pup", Bryce commanded.

Laryll was struck wordless when the Warden obeyed without question. The distance between the Couslands was soon lost and Iselda kept her gaze on the ground, like she had done something wrong. Even Dog whined and its head was lowered. The elf didn't want to imagine the mabari's reaction if its master was harmed any more than Kolgrim had. During that fight, Morrigan had had no choice but to cast a sleeping spell to calm the animal down.

"Look at me, my daughter", the spirit gestured Iselda to raise her chin.

Doing as told, the Warden's gleaming orbs saw her father's brown leer clearly for the first time since his death and before she could even shift, Bryce touched her cheek lightly, supporting her trembling jaw. "I can see it", he sighed from relief. "That brightness you had before the massacre has returned. I... I feared that the darkness had entirely captured your heart, pup. I'm so glad that you've gained that spark back you abandoned on that night."

"I... I don't understand...", Iselda whispered.

"You will, in time", the ghost withdrew his fingers but not before he tucked a tress of his daughter's hair behind her ear. "You have found the answer, so do not doubt yourself. Walk proudly with that rekindled flame inside you." He took off a necklace that had the symbol of the Couslands on it and enclosed it in Iselda's hand. "Keep this with you at all times, and you will never part with that spark again."

Bryce's figure started to disappear and Iselda didn't look away. Laryll felt like she was going to soon shed tears for her friend and hadn't noticed how tightly she was squeezing Zevran's hand. She couldn't comprehend the pain Iselda had endured and the mix of sensations that must have been swirling inside her during the meeting.

Her head turned and she observed how the sight was making Alistair look concerned and hopeless in a way. No matter how much the Warden must have wanted to just embrace Iselda and shield her from sorrow, they couldn't interfere. Not only because Bryce Cousland might have been one of the tests, but also for Iselda's sake. These minutes belonged to her and she needed to confront her father alone.

Forcing a smile, the warrior put the necklace on and carefully stroked it. "Father", she said, "I swear to you that Howe will pay for his crimes. However, it is not my wrath that will slay him. If I can't see any sign of salvation in his eyes, then all I can show him is the pity of my blade. Will you trust me enough to do this?"

Bryce's palm landed on Iselda's head and he slightly tousled her tied hair. "No-one else but you are capable of finishing such task. I pray for your success, pup."

"Farewell, father", the words almost stuck in the Warden's throat.

"Farewell, my dearest daughter."

As silently as mist travels across a lake, Bryce Cousland's spirit faded away, a thin line of smoke dancing between Iselda's fingers when she touched the air. The Warden stood there, clasping the symbol of her house inside her other hand and looking up, like she had while listening to her father.

A jab from Laryll's elbow told Alistair that he was free to go. The elf was still holding Zevran's hand and she pulled him to follow her, wishing to give the Wardens some time alone. She didn't need to ask Morrigan because the witch had already become more interested in the carvings on the walls, panting Dog trailing behind her.

When Laryll turned her head to glance Iselda, she couldn't first believe that it was a shining tear she saw running along the warrior's face before Alistair wrapped his arms around her protectively. Sniffling, the redhead hurried the assassin by taking longer steps.

0-0-0-0-0

"This is so pointless", Morrigan bemoaned and stood on a tile on the floor.

"Almost there, I think", Alistair told her and slowly stepped away from another tile.

The group had encountered a puzzle that more or less confused them. It was rather simple, which was why it seemed so out-of-place in the temple that was guarding Andraste's ashes. There were tiles like small platforms that always flickered when touched. They circled a bottomless hole on the floor and when pressed in the correct order, a piece of hovering bridge would produce over the pit. Finding out the right tiles was the only tricky part, but as Laryll stopped on one with a picture of some kind of bird, the bridge became solid and they could cross.

"Finally", the witch rolled her eyes.

"One more trial to go", Iselda grinned.

Laryll met the Warden's gaze and smiled back. Her friend was too strong to be defeated by old ghosts and memories, a trait she envied about her. Although, Iselda was actually now like a bumblebee in the summer, bustling around Alistair more than usual. Most likely it was her method of not thinking about her father to the point of grief, but Laryll couldn't help but smirk whenever she noticed how Iselda was making the other Warden blush. She was quite glad that her experience of men wasn't certainly any greater than Alistair's experience of women.

Another room opened to them and dead silence created a nervous atmosphere. Swallowing quietly, Laryll dared to take a glimpse inside, her eyes going through every corner before some faint figures walked out of white smoke that had appeared out of nowhere, catching her attention totally.

She gestured her companions to accompany her in order to take a closer look. As soon as they all entered, a shared gasp fled from their mouths. This time, the spirits were identical to them, like they were their own ghosts.

"Somehow I anticipated this", Morrigan admitted. "What a better way to test one's heart than to put him against his self?"

Laryll couldn't look what expression Zevran had. Connor had made him fight against her before and judging from how little he spoke of it, it had been nightmarish. Seeing the Antivan's spirit just a couple of steps away from her, his daggers unsheathed and ready to kill her, was enough to cause shudders through her whole body. She could never draw her weapon against him nor his reflection.

_Wait_, the rogue suddenly thought.

_Maybe..._

"Whatever we do, we must decide now", Iselda said. "The one that looks like me is about to grab her sword and let me tell you, that sword used to be pretty damn sharp when it wasn't broken."

Right after the Warden had made her statement, Laryll walked forward.

"What are you doing?" Zevran's voice was panicked.

"There's nothing to be afraid of", Laryll spoke, not sure if her words were directed to the spirits or those behind her. "I'm not scared of none of you, so why should I be threatened by your images?"

His mouth gaping, Zevran was having a hard time countering what the rogue had said. Laryll knew how he struggled to come up with anything that would make her return to him, but her mind was set and she needed to believe that her plan would work. She could feel the breaths in her neck and heard Dog's low growling. The spirit with her face shifted an inch, preparing to take her daggers, but Laryll had to think that not even her clone would kill her friends with her mother's blades.

A bead of cold sweat on her brow was ignored as she stared at the glowing mabari that padded to her, its teeth still exposed which made Zevran flinch and his hand searched the hilt of his dagger.

"No, Zev", Laryll lifted her palm. "If it senses your intention, it'll attack. Do not alarm it."

She inhaled calmly when the Antivan relaxed again and slowly sank on her knees. Her wide pupils were glued on the pair of black eyes. The mabari let out few confused barks, but gradually it's sounds of a beast decreased and it sniffled Laryll from afar. The elf carefully brought her hand near her chest before extending it to the spirit, her fist opened and all tension erased.

The animal was wary, but in the end it gathered courage to take a better sniff of the stranger in front of it. Laryll felt the spirit's tickling touch and chuckled in a low voice. Her reaction eased the mabari and after licking its nose first, it tasted the elf's thumb and its tail wagged for a second. Laryll's gamble was a lucky one when she moved her hand to the spirit's muzzle and brushed it, though her fingers almost went through its translucent body.

"By the Maker...", Alistair breathed.

Laryll glanced at the other ghosts and witnessed their happy faces before they all evaporated, turning into peaceful clouds and finally disappearing. The mabari gave one last lick on her palm and joined the spirits. The elf sighed, her hand still sensing the same softness Dog's fur had.

"How on earth did you know to do that?" Iselda had to ask.

"I didn't", Laryll said. "My heart did."

The Warden's frowning was making the redhead embarrassed, so she rubbed her neck and suggested that the party should move on. Her gaze found Zevran's and red color claimed even more space on her skin, but before she could hide, the Antivan cupped her cheek and looked straight into her, the smirk Laryll loved the most occupying his lips.

"What's so funny?" she muttered.

"Your eyes are sparkling, my dear", Zevran was amused.

Snorting, Laryll took the assassin's hand and played with his slender fingers. "Why do you think that is?"

"Because...", Zevran tilted his head like he was pondering about an answer in earnest and leaned forward to whisper it into the rogue's ear. "Because you're thinking how nice it would be to make love on that hill in Antiva that's covered in those white flowers I fancy?"

Laryll accidentally let out a loud giggle and her hand flew to her mouth. Coughing, she pushed the assassin away to cure the embarrassment that was about to explode inside her and skittered to the final doorway the spirits had blocked earlier.

Comfortable tingling crawled through her from toes to head when she began to seriously envision the scene Zevran had described to her and she ensured no-one else saw her cunning smile.

0-0-0-0-0

The room at the end of the corridor was bright due to a line of flames that cut the party's path. The smell was odd though in Laryll's opinion and she hoped the Wardens had noticed that too. It wasn't particularly warm, so she was positive the fire was magical. Behind it, they could see royal stone stairs and monumental statues of soldiers that seemed to show respect to a pedestal and its figurine on the pride of place. It was the core of the temple, a resting chamber of the deceased wife of the Maker. A blue ray of light shone on the floor, not yielding to the thick wall of rock that once had obscured it.

Iselda noted a stand near the flames. When she walked to it, she read aloud the text carved on a golden plate on top of it. "'Cast off the trappings of the worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit. King and slave, lord and beggar, be born anew in the Maker's sight.'"

"What does that mean?" Laryll directly turned to Zevran, who had proved his skill in riddles and puzzles.

"Ah, _mi amora_. You are going to adore this one", the bronze elf's sneer was carefree. "My best guess is that we need to leave all of our equipment here in order to pass." He inspected the rogue's clothes. "_All_ of it."

Laryll's eyes widened. "You're kidding, aren't you?"

"Makes perfect sense, no?"

"It does, in fact", Iselda agreed. "Things like shirts and swords aren't from the spiritual world."

"Well, this is awkward", Alistair scrabbled his hair, his other hand leaning against his hip.

When Laryll took a cautious glimpse of Morrigan, the witch was squinting, glaring at the stairs ahead. "What's wrong?" the elf inquired.

"We are not alone here", Morrigan said in a low voice.

Shocked, Laryll swiftly looked in the same direction the witch did, her heart pounding for some reason. They had come so far. Who or what would hinder them now? Rebeka hadn't showed herself which had made the elf believe that the mage wasn't in the temple. Her eyes mirrored nothing but fire and she couldn't feel any chills all the spirits had caused.

"I don't see anything", Zevran murmured, staying beside Laryll.

Iselda cussed. "Let's get this over with, no time to be shy-"

The Warden was interrupted by Dog's bark and watched in disbelief as the mabari rushed to the scorching flames.

"No, get back! Dog!" Iselda shouted.

Laryll had to grab the warrior to stop her from running after the animal, but her grip loosened when the fire faded away as soon as Dog had passed it. Her stunned expression was written on everyone's face and there were no words to explain the view. The mabari continued to the stairs and remained on the first step, growling and its leer targeting whatever had provoked it on the top.

The redhead inhaled rapidly and slowly walked past the stand. She was expecting for a sea of fire to drown her, but it truly was gone and she was standing in the middle of the room. A confused stare from her told the rest to follow and they were as alert as she had been while taking short steps.

Morrigan froze when she neared Dog and glanced around. "I think our mystery woman is tricking us with illusion spells." Her irritated gaze was aimed at the same spot the mabari had bared its teeth at. "And you all know how I hate being played with."

_Illusions_, Laryll thought silently, not aware of such strong magic. "If you are here, then it would be for the best if you showed yourself before our friend wrecks this place to find you, Rebeka", she stated, her voice booming in the large environment.

They waited patiently, not even breathing loudly in order to hear every sound. Dog whimpered and withdrew a bit when a cloaked person appeared on the top of the stairs, like she had been concealed by shadows till now. Her steps were quiet as an assassin's and there was a beautiful, decorated staff on her back with orbs colored in tones of dawn and dusk. The person wasn't tall and her slim body resembled that of an elf.

Laryll couldn't see the stranger's face before she dropped her hood and the natural light coated her. The woman's eyes were green like a meadow and thick, chocolate curls were tucked inside her cloak. Her lips were pale as was her skin that didn't seem to have basked in sunlight for ages. The stare that met Laryll was tired and stressed, revealing the amount of burden that the woman carried on her shoulders.

The rogue shivered when she looked if what Wynne had said was true. The left side of the person's cloak was awfully empty, making her believe that an arm was missing there.

"Is this shrimp the one who's been making my head ache?" Morrigan spat. "Definitely not what I pictured."

"An interesting way to start a conversation", Alistair replied.

Iselda disregarded her comrades and lifted her chin, facing the woman who was at least ten steps away from them. "So you're Rebeka?" she asked.

"And you are the Warden?" Rebeka asked back.

"Both of us, really", Iselda gestured at her and Alistair.

"I know."

"Oh. Well if you do, then I guess you know my friends too?"

"Yes."

"Not the chatty sort, I see", Zevran groaned.

"There's hardly time to chat", Rebeka said.

Laryll was certain that she wasn't the only one whose first impression of the mage Wynne had talked about had been quite different. Rebeka was unmoving like a hundred year old tree and she was obviously introverted. Concern and anxiety shone from her, but she was keeping them to herself. Once, perhaps, there had been a key that could have unlocked her, but she must have thrown it away a long time ago.

All that was left was a troubled woman who fought by herself using any means necessary. Her goals may have been pure, but Laryll was sad that the mage had sacrificed too much to achieve them.

"Why are you here?" Iselda folded her arms. "Wynne was quite puzzled when you took off after Ostagar."

Rebeka turned for a moment, watching the altar behind her. "It is a precaution."

"Could you be any more specific, please?" the warrior pressed her fingers in her eyes and sighed, frustrated.

"The Ashes may be needed in the future, not only to heal the Arl."

"It's kind of creepy that you know this much about things", Alistair admitted.

Whipping her head back at the Wardens, Rebeka's eyes flared. "I haven't traveled this far without cost. I lost more than one part of myself and innocent people got involved because of me, but I had no choice. Not after what I..." She paused and bit her lip. "It's still hazy, but something...something horrible is going to happen, probably when the Archdemon will be slain. The gears have been set to motion already, which is why I had to come."

"What are you saying?" Laryll shook her head. "Wynne suspected that you predicted the King's death and that you've seen even further into the future."

"I saw it", Rebeka looked at the elf. "Death, destruction, pain, screaming people... And mages being executed by templars. No questions, no arrests."

Laryll stirred and her mouth opened a little. The templars had always despised mages, but she had slowly come to realize that not all of them were like Ser Meurik had been in the alienage. She could understand Rebeka's hatred towards the men who hadn't let her do anything, not even yawn without them being aware of it.

Yet she didn't want to think that the templars would go out of control and murder people just because they could cast spells.

"How does the Archdemon fit in this...vision of yours?" Iselda furrowed.

"That battle will be the catalyst for the future", Rebeka said. "It will decide the course, though I'm not sure how. Because everything is still unclear, I have to make preparations like this", she pointed at the altar and an urn on it.

"You wish to alter the future then?" Morrigan still sounded angry.

"If it's the only way to avoid the massacre I saw, then yes."

"Leliana claimed to have seen a vision and I thought that she was mad. Why should we listen to you?" the witch asked bluntly.

"I'm not asking you to", Rebeka answered. "Our paths may cross again, but I can't allow you to stop me. Too much is at stake."

"Then we should work together", Iselda said. "The Archdemon is our mutual enemy and we have a better chance if you really can see the upcoming events."

"It's not that easy", Rebeka sounded hasty. "I'm walking on a dangerous road and people could get harmed with me. I'm not seeking power only to fight the Blight, but to aid the mages if my vision becomes reality. It is not safe for me to join you."

"Is that a warning?" the left corner of Zevran's mouth rose.

Glaring, the mage put on her hood, clasping the leaf pattern on its edge before letting go. "I can't stay here any longer", Rebeka quickly took her staff and brought it in front of her. "I'm sorry, I wish I could explain my plans more accurately, but the Archdemon is growing too strong and its army is spreading faster than ever. You Wardens need to make haste or the Blight will win."

"Wait!" Laryll yelled, but had to shield her eyes from a flash of magic that Rebeka caused by casting a spell and hitting the floor with her staff.

The air whistled around the mage and she was surrounded by light and swirling energy. The elf attempted to carefully take a peep, but Rebeka, along with her magic, had vanished. Only the noise of her spell was left echoing in the room and Dog whined in confusion.

As the fire in the braziers calmed from the commotion, a fragile ribbon of smoke loomed on the ground before the group and the Guardian was generated from it, although his spirit was fickle and he seemed to be in suffering like a bleeding man would.

"You...what...", the Guardian hacked. "Where is she? The one who entered without permission?"

"What happened to you?" Laryll was about to help the man on his feet, but remembered how her fingers had sunk in the mabari's spiritual body and her hand halted.

"That intruder... What foul magic she used to survive the trials without taking them and to bind me... Oh sweet Andraste, the world has changed much after your departure..."

Iselda hurried to the spirit and bent over. "Guardian, forgive me my insolence, but a good man will die without the Ashes. Rebeka had done something to the flames that, if I'm correct, were also part of these tests. Have we failed?"

The thought clenched Laryll's throat. For the Arl and her friends she had stained herself in blood, cried and laughed and encountered hellish things most see only in their dreams. She would not forgive Rebeka if her actions here had doomed them and the man they had struggled to save. The look in Iselda's eyes was furious and worried, telling the elf that the Warden felt the same pain as she did deep in her heart.

The Guardian rose up, staring at the Cousland warrior. "No, pilgrim, you have not failed", his even more hoarse voice said. "I can see that your spirit has been cleansed, even without the purifying fire. Your will and bravery to help one man is admirable, as is your resolve to defeat the Blight. You can take a pinch of Andraste's remains and witness her power when the Arl shall wake from his poisoned slumber again."

After a relieved sigh, Iselda couldn't help but smile. "Thank you", was all she managed to reply with.

Weakly mimicking the Warden's grin, the spirit waved his palm as if he was saying goodbye and in an instant he was gone. Laryll got a feeling that they wouldn't see the man ever again, that whatever magic Rebeka had cast to get the Ashes, it had damaged the Guardian's spirit severely, sending him to the after world. Whether it was a good or bad thing that he could now rest, a hint of anger climbed along her spine. In her mind, Rebeka had no right to end the Guardian's duty just to get the Ashes 'in case for the future'.

She nodded at Iselda and the Warden proceeded upstairs, her companions staying close to her. With weighty steps she made her way to the statue of Andraste and inspected the craft before gazing at the urn set on the marble pedestal. Orange color of the divine ember in the statue's hand reflected from the golden item that radiated of serenity and hope.

"I stand in awe", Morrigan amazed the others with her words. "Really."

"Leliana should have come with us", Alistair bowed his head.

Iselda gently lifted the cap of the urn and didn't dare to put it on the altar. Holding a piece of an artifact was enough responsibility and ruining it even slightly would gnaw anyone forever. She glanced at Laryll and the redhead smiled in approval. The elf witnessed as the Warden's fingers slid into the urn and a small but hopefully sufficient amount of dark silver ashes were squeezed between them when her hand retreated.

Alistair had emptied a pouch for the precious material and Iselda was quick to fill it, not spilling the tiniest grain. She wiped her thumb on the fabric inside the pouch and firmly tied it with a silk lace, breathing normally once the ashes were secured.

She gave Alistair a kiss and looked at his sunny face. "The Arl will live, my love. You can ease up now."

"How can I?" the former templar laughed. "If I don't look out, I might have a heart attack due to these sweet but unpredictable treats of yours."

"Then let me warn you in advance that I'm going to shower you in kisses once we get back to the Castle", Iselda winked.


End file.
